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A NAKRATIVE 

OF THE 

LIFE, TRAVELS AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE, 

OF 

GEORGE W. BATCHELDER, 

From his Birth, in the year 1803, to the year 1843, 
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 



Stablish your hearts; for the coming of the Lord draweth 

near. James, v. 8. 

A double minded man is unstable in all his ways. 

James, i. 8. 



Barrett and Jones, Printers, 33 Carter's Alley. 
1843. 



<* 






if 






PREFACE, 



Although I am aware that there are 
many works similar to the present pub- 
lished, and widely circulated in the 
community- — works which can justly 
claim greater merit than my own — 
works written by men of eminent piety, 
learning and brilliant talent — yet, to 
discharge from my mind a strong con- 
viction of duty, and with a hope that I 
may realize a strong and increasing de- 
sire to do good, I venture to send this 
into the world, and especially into the 
circle of my fellow mechanics, and the 



IV PREFACE. 

inexperienced .in the religion of the 
Lord Jesus Christ. 

In engaging in this duty, I have two 
prominent objects in view. 1. To warn 
the young in religion against instability, 
which I have observed to be an abound- 
ing evil among the young, and for which 
my own life was notorious. An evil, 
against which the apostles have lifted 
their voice of warning and alarm. An 
evil, which, though not a sin of itself, 
yet it is the doorway to apostacy, in 
all its horrible degrees, and to infideli- 
ty, with all its numberless train of crimes 
and blasphemy. 

2dly. To encourage all those who 
through instability have, or may apos- 
tatize from Christ, or backslide from 
religion, to return. " To repent and 
do their first works." Notwithstand- 
ing we are warned against the crime, 
and urged to go on to perfection, and 
and exhorted "not to lay the founda- 



PREFACE. 



tion for repentance and faith from dead 
works," yet the sacred word of God 
declares "Return, oh ye backsliding 
Israel, for I was married to you, and I 
will heal your backslidings; and will 
love you freely. " On this point, my 
own experience strongly corroborates 
the scriptures, and holds out boldly 
encouragement to such in a practical 
form. Often! oh, too often! have I 
fallen, shamefully fallen, and, by my 
backsliding, caused the wounds of my 
crucified* Redeemer to bleed afresh — 
the tears of friends to flow profusely — 
and the cause of God to suffer; but as 
often have I, through the mercy of God, 
and blood of the everlasting covenant, 
arisen again, and arisen, too, for the last 
time until I shall arise to heaven, with 
my Lord to reign. Although I do 
adopt the language of the poet, 
"Ah, Lord, with trembling I confess, 
A precious soul may fall from grace." 



VI PREFACE. 

I can as truly continue my song with 
an air of joy and triumphant truth, that 

"He speaks my paradise restored, 
Redeems me by his grace alone." 

While I show you the rock on which 
I have made shipwreck of faith and a 
good conscience, I would point you to 
the life boat of a sinful world, "Jesus 
Christ, who saves to the utmost all 
them that come unto God by him." 
GEO. W. BATCHELDER. 



CHAPTER I. 

His birth, etc. The decease of his pious mother, etc. 
The powerful influence of her religious example and pre- 
cepts. His advice to parents, etc. 

I was born in the city of Philadel- 
phia, State of Pennsylvania, on the 12th 
day of November, in the year 1S03. 
Of my father I know but little; he died 
at a distanee from home, leaving my 
mother in low circumstances, with se- 
veral children to support, of which I 
was the youngest. When I was about 
seven years old, my mother embraced 
the religion of Jesus Christ — was bap- 
tized by the Rev. Mr. Peckworth, 
(a Baptist Preacher,) — and joined his 
Church. She began her Christian jour- 
ney as she ended it, in the fervent spirit 
of her Master. She was a burning and 



8 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

a shining light, evincing to all that she 
could suffer, as well as do, the will of 
God. 

Soon I began to feel the influence of 
her pious instruction and Godly exam- 
ple on my heart. She would take me 
by the hand, with a sister who was next 
in years to myself, and lead us to her 
< closet of prayer/ that we might be- 
hold her tears, and witness her suppli- 
cations for all her children. My affec- 
tion seemed to increase for my mother 
as her depth of piety was unfolded to 
my young mind. When I was about 
nine years of age, my mother sent me 
into the country to see one of my bro- 
thers, who lived on a farm in Montgo- 
mery county, eighteen miles from the 
city, with a family of Friends, common- 
ly called Quakers, who were so kind to 
me that it was thought best for me to 
continue with them. Indeed, I cannot 
speak of the family, (whose names were 



OF G. W. BATCHELDER. 



Ellis,) but with warm feelings of grati- 
tude and affection. I was taught to 
call the heads of this family, uncle and 
aunty. Although I was now deprived 
of the fostering care that flows from 
parental affection, and though my new 
uncle and aunty did not lead me to the 
closet of prayer, yet they carefully 
watched over my moral character; and 
the religious impressions that had al- 
ready been made upon my mind, could 
not easily be obliterated. I still prayed, 
taking care, however, that no one 
should hear me. One evening it was 
suggested to my mind that I must pray 
louder than I was in the habit of doing, 
or God would not hear me. I knelt 
down by my bed and prayed aloud; the 
next morning my aunty asked me the 
cause of the noise in my room the night 
before. I felt so confused and ashamed, 
that, to hide it, I told' her that I was 
reading by the light of the moon; she 



10 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

told me that they knew I was praying, 
and she was sorry that I would tell 
such an untruth about it; assuring me 
at the same time that they had no ob- 
jections to my praying. 1 was more 
careful in future, however. I wanted 
to enjoy, even at this time, what my 
mother enjoyed, but I knew not how 
to come at it. 

Sometimes my uncle would take me 
with him to the city when he went to 
market, to see my mother; and oh! 
these were precious moments. My 
uncle would give me a few pennies to 
buy notions for myself, but I was care- 
ful to lay them out for her, who was to 
me more than all things else beside. 
At one time I bought a loaf of bread. 
I knew that my mother was poor. I 
folded it up in my handkerchief, and 
then with a glad heart and a quick step 
I was soon at my mother's door. She 
could scarcely refrain from tears at see- 



OF G. W. BATCHELDER. 11 

ing my affection for her. But oh! such 
a mother! I would receive her bless- 
ing and return again to my uncle. 

When I was about eleven years of 
age, my sister came out on a visit to see 
myself and brother. She had been 
there but a few days, when a message 
arrived, informing us of the illness of 
our mother, and requesting us to return 
home. Her illness was such, that the 
physicians entertained but little hope of 
her recovery. My kind uncle imme- 
diately started with us to the city. We 
found her a very sick woman. Being 
of a delicate constitution, and laboring 
beyond her strength to provide for her 
children, she was attacked with cold 
and bilious fever, by which she was 
thus reduced. At the sight of her chil- 
dren she suddenly revived, and all fears 
of her death for the present were ban- 
ished from us. My brother then re- 
turned to the country. But as it was 



12 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

my wish to stay a few days, it was 
cheerfully consented to by my uncle. 

My mother's sudden amendment, 
occasioned by our arrival, however, 
proved to be no more than a momenta- 
ry one, in which she might set her 
house in order, to counsel and pray for 
her children, which being done, she 
relapsed again, almost as suddenly as 
she had revived, and in a few days I 
was called to witness her last moments. 

On the day of her death she appeared 
to be in a deep sleep, perfectly quiet 
and free from all pain. I remained 
with her, until my distress became so 
great that I was constrained to leave the 
room, and retired to a lonely spot and 
supplicated the throne of God for her 
life to be prolonged. Soon after my 
re-entering her room, however, she 
expired without a sigh, groan, or strug- 
gle. 

Her last moments were such as have 



Or G. W. BATCHELDEB. 13 

afforded me lasting comfort to the pre- 
sent. The same composure and entire 
resignation which was so remarkable in 
all her sufferings, was manifest to the 
last. I was now left to mourn the loss 
of one of the most affectionate and sym- 
pathizing parents that ever any child 
was blessed with. Although I was 
but eleven years of age when I lost 
her, and many years have elapsed, yet 
well do I remember the parting scene, 
when I kissed, for the last time, those 
pallid lips, now sealed in repose until 
the resurrection morn. And now, dear 
reader, suffer me for a moment to dwell 
on the influence of a pious and godly 
mother's example upon her children. 

It is true, that the influence of a 
pious father affects his offspring to a 
great extent, but how few there are who 
remember their father's prayers and 
tears that are offered up to God for their 
salvation, when compared with the ma- 



14* A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

ny who make mention of the unwearied 
solicitude and prayers of a pious mother 
offered up in their behalf. How very 
many are indebted to a mother's pre- 
cept and example for their moral and 
religious character. 

Dear reader, if you are a mother, let 
me beseech you by that love you have 
for your tender offspring, that you try 
to fill their minds with the love of 
truth, and train them up for God. Oh! 
how your influence operates upon the 
heart of your child when you think not 
of it. While absent from you, this, 
like the invisible leven in the lump, is 
working to form the religious character 
of your beloved one. And even when 
. you are in the cold grave, your offspring 
will not forget the good or evil exam- 
ple, which l)y you was set before them 
in life. How must Samuel have blessed 
God for such a mother as Hannah, who 
dedicated him to his God in infancy. 



OF G. W. BATCHELDER. 15 

And young Timothy, with what de- 
light must he have dwelt on the faithful 
care and early instruction of a pious 
mother in the precious book of God. 
And also a Wesley, he had a mother of 
blessed memory. 

Think of the little prattler, looking 
up to the heavens, gazing on those stars 
that glitter in the evening sky, and hear 
him ask, mother who made those twink- 
ling stars? And the kind mother re- 
plies with an affection that can not be 
described, that God, who made all 
things, and who lives in the heavens 
above the stars, made them; and that 
he is the giver of all our blessings. 

Thus she will conduct his little mind 
from the stream, to the fountain from 
whence they flow. Then, from its 
bended knee before the throne, she 
teaches it to raise its eyes and say, " our 
Father who art in Heaven," &c. 

Now, dear mother, if this be your 



16 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

manner of training your little ones, you 
shall be called blessed among women. 



CHAPTER II. 

The bad effects of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress on his 
mind. The effects of a Sermon preached by a Friend. 
His apprenticeship to a Blacksmith. His resolution 
against profane swearing. How he obtained a Bible, etc. 

But to return. I now felt that I had 
lost my earthly all. In a few days I 
returned to my uncle with a heavy 
heart. Though they were all kind to 
me and my brother, who lived with the 
same family, yet 1 had no friend like 
the one I had lost. For a long time 
her image was constantly before me. 
As I was sure that she had gone to hea- 
ven, I felt determined to meet her there; 
but I knew not how to get there. I 
prayed much, but was still unhappy. 
There were many sins which in my 



OF G. W. BATCHELDEH. 17 

childhood gave me much trouble, and 
the strongest temptation which assailed 
me, and as often overcame me, was that 
of a shame to pray and live a religious 
life. To please a vain and idle com- 
panion, and for fear of being despised, I 
would profess a pleasure in that kind 
of conversation that sported with the 
religion of Christ. At the same time 
my heart was pained within me. I was 
constantly striving to hide my convic- 
tions, yet I dared not stop praying, but 
secretly I would call upon the Lord. 

About this time some one of the fa- 
mily brought ' Bunyan's Pilgrim's Pro- 
gress ' into the house, which I read over 
and over — it being the first religous 
book, except the Bible, that I ever 
read. This book I did not understand, 
and, as 1 took it in the literal sense, I 
did not derive any benefit therefrom. 
This so affected my mind that I became 
2 



18 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

bewildered; so much so, that I had to 
resort to medical treatment for my re- 
covery. 

At length my uncle discovered the 
cause of my affliction, and the book was 
locked up, and I saw it no more. 

Abut this time I had a dream, which 
was a great comfort to me. I dreamed 
I went to heaven, and was welcomed 
by the blessed Saviour, who took spe- 
cial pains to make me feel at home. I 
had all I could wish to make me happy, 
and I was happy. 

I now went to a meeting at a school- 
house about a half mile from my uncle's, 
held by a Friend. I think his name 
was John Comly. This man preached 
Jesus as the only way to heaven, and in 
such a manner that his words flew one 
after another to me, and lodged in my 
heart: and while the tears ran down his 
cheeks, I felt ready to cry aloud for 
mercy; but as I perceived no other one 



OF G. W. BATCHELDER. 19 

in the same condition, I strove against 
it, and returned home despairing of ever 
finding mercy. Thus time passed on 
until I had attained my fifteenth year. 

My uncle now concluded that I should 
go to a trade. He put me with one 
John Bickens, a blacksmith in Rox- 
borough, nine miles above Philadelphia. 
To this man I was bound an apprentice 
for the term of five years. 

Now it was that I began to feel that I 
was friendless in this world. It is true 
that my master was generally kind. 
But oh! how my heart was grieved 
when I was compelled to hear, what I 
never was accustomed to hear before, 
namely, wicked and profane swearing. I 
found this to be the habit of the entire 
neighborhood. 

Now again the pious prayers and in- 
structions of my mother came afresh 
into my recollection, and I resolved, 



20 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

with God's help, never to swear while 
I lived, let the consequence be what it 
might. 

My master called me a Quaker, be- 
cause I would not swear, but, through 
the continued mercies of God, I was 
preserved from it. I began now to love 
company, and frequently broke loose 
from my conscience, and indulged in 
sports and plays such as were common 
in the neighborhood. 

My prayers were less frequent than 
formerly, and, upon the whole, my 
mind more alienated from the right 
way. Pleasing scenes of vanity were 
now presented to my imagination, and 
I was hastening toward destruction. 
When I was seventeen years old, being 
at a tavern one evening where there 
was a dance, (in which, by the way, it 
was the practice of master and servant 
to participate;) but it so happened at 
this time that my master wanted me 



OF G. Vtr. BATCHELDER. 21 

for something special. Accordingly he 
came to the tavern after me. I think I 
was about to engage in the dance when 
he caught hold of me, and, in a rough 
manner, bid me go home; and at the 
same time calling me his Quaker, ask- 
ing me what I thought my uncle would 
say if he saw me shaking my legs after 
the fiddle. This reproof reached my 
heart, and it seemed as if the very judg- 
ment of God fell upon my poor soul 
like a consuming fire. I hurried home, 
and was soon after alone. My past his- 
tory now passed in review before me, 
and if ever I longed to be delivered 
from such vanities, I did at this mo- 
ment. But, alas! I knew not how to 
escape, and I had none to instruct me. 
Oh! how I longed for some one to 
teach me what to do to extricate my- 
self from the snares of Satan. 

I now determined to obtain a Bible; 
but I had no money. My master had 



22 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

given me a week in harvest to earn 
pocket money, with the proceeds of 
which I had purchased a watch. I 
traded this watch with a young man who 
was at work for my master for a small 
Bible. This was the first, and proved 
to be the best trade I ever made. 

I was glad in my very soul ! Yes, I 
felt rich. I seemed now to have both 
a friend and a companion in my solita- 
ry and gloomy hours. I expect the old 
watch is worn out by this time, but, 
glory to God, I have the same book of 
God, and though I have used it much, 
and still use it, yet it tells the same 
good old story of redeeming love. Oh ! 
who can tell the value of that blessed 
book to my soul! It has been a light 
to my benighted mind — a chart to my 
wandering soul. Therein I have learned 
how I became so wretched and misera- 
ble. It also pointed me to the remedy 
of my misery, even the cross of Christ, 



OF G. W. BATCHELDEH. 23 

whereby 1 might become happy, and 
have a glorious prospect of heaven. 

Dear reader, do you wish to find your 
way to heaven? God has condescended 
to publish the way in this book. 

The entire sum and substance of the 
Bible, is man's redemption, wrought out 
by Jesus Christ, the great Head of the 
church. Would to God, that every 
man had a heart to receive it 

Believe this book, or believe nothing. 
Believe and obey this book, or we are 
undone forever. 

At first 1 read the historical parts of 
the scriptures. I did not understand the 
doctrines and mysteries of man's redemp- 
tion, yet what I read done me good, for 
it drew me on to love the Bible, and to 
prize it above every other book. 



24* A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

CHAPTER III. 

His apprenticeship to the shoemaking business. Union 
with the Baptist Church, conversion, etc. The expiration 
of his apprenticeship. His apostacy occasioned by a 
Universalist, etc. His removal to Kensington. His re- 
clamation from Universalism, and union with the Rev. 
Mr. Kennard's Church. 

I had now been about two years in 
my apprenticeship, and my master con- 
cluded to quit business. He procured 
several places for me at the same trade, 
but as I did not like any of them, I was 
left to shift for myself. I offered to 
serve the remaining three years with a 
shoemaker in the neighborhood, whose 
name was William Heritage. 

He accepted my proposals, and I be- 
came his apprentice. To this man I 
soon formed a warm attachment. Al- 
though he was in an unconverted state, 
he had a most amiable and kind dispo- 
sition. Always ready to do acts of kind- 
ness, from his benevolence he was gene- 
rally called neighbor Heritage. And, 
although he has gone to a spirit-world, 



OF G. W« BATCHELDER. 25 

his name will be held dear by his neigh- 
bors. 

After I had been with Mr. H. about 
one year, he resolved on a religious life; 
to accomplish which, he and about twen- 
ty others, joined the Lutheran Church, 
at a place called Barren Hill, about two 
miles from his residence. Mr. H. had 
been principal singer in that church for 
several years, which employment was a 
delightful exercise to him, nature hav- 
ing given to him a sweet voice, which 
was well adapted to vocal music. 

The pastor of the church informed 
them what was necessary to be done, 
before they could be received into 
church; one of the principal things was 
to commit to memory the catechism of 
the church, so as to recite to the preach- 
er. For this purpose, they met a few 
times at the church, and were then ad- 
mitted to its communion. I was ad- 
vised to join also, but I could not see 



26 4 NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

how it would better my spiritual condi- 
tion. I could see no difference in the 
conduct and manner of those who were 
members, and those who were not 

It was thought no harm, even among 
the official members, to frequent taverns, 
and indulge in practices entirely incon- 
sistent with the Christian religion. In- 
deed spiritual darkness, at that period, 
seemed to pervade the entire neighbor- 
hood. They did not seem to perceive 
the necessity of regeneration, or the 
operations of the spirit of God on the 
heart. They appeared not to have 
either the form or power of godliness. 

They went to church on the Sabbath, 
but beyond this I fear their religion did 
not extend. 

Oh what a dreadful delusion did many 
in that village practice upon themselves ! 
What a pang of disappointment will one 
day fasten upon their immortal souls! 



OF G. W. BATCHEL1JER. 27 

But, I trust, it is not now in that place, 
as it was twenty years ago. 

As I had received but little good from 
going to the Lutheran church, I con- 
cluded to try the Baptists. According- 
ly I attended the Baptist church regu- 
larly every Sabbath. I soon became 
acquainted with the Rev. Mr. Fleeson, 
who resided in the neighborhood of the 
meeting-house. This man of God was 
entirely blind, having lost his sight some 
years previous. As it was necessary for 
some one to conduct Father Fleeson, 
(for so I called him,) to and from the 
church, I became his conductor, on the 
Sabbath days. I soon informed him of 
my intention to follow a religious and 
pious life. 

He advised me to offer myself as a 
candidate for baptism, and, believing it 
to be for the best, I did so. I testified 
to the church my determination to live 
for God, and that I had already com- 



28 A ^AltRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

menced a life of godliness. My expe- 
rience being satisfactory to the church, 
I was immersed in the Schuylkill river, 
by the Rev. Mr. Jones, and received 
into church fellowship by that society. 

I now believed that my name was 
registered in the book of life, and that I 
had nothing to do but to say my prayers, 
and go to church, and lead a moral life. 

About nine months after I had joined 
the Baptist society, it pleased God to 
give me a clearer sight of my true con- 
dition, than I ever had before. 

Some one put into my hands Dodd- 
rige's "Rise and Progress of Religion in 
the Soul. ? ' I knew that if this book was 
true, I was still in my sins, and that I 
had deceived myself and tha church. I 
was astonished at the discovery, but 
was certain that I was a poor miserable 
sinner. 

I now betook myself to prayer in the 



OF G. W. BATCHELRER. 29 

fields, and other places of retirement 
from home. I knew that it was gene- 
rally thought that I was pious, and I 
thought it best to suffer the church to 
retain that opinion of me, and in the 
mean time, I would get converted, and 
it would all be right in the end. 

For this purpose, I would withdraw 
from home after night, into retired 
places to engage in prayer. Now I 
found my old besetment, the fear of 
man, to torment me worse than ever. 
I would no sooner kneel down in one 
place than I would be tempted, and be- 
lieved also that some one would hear 
me. Then I would remove at a greater 
distance from home, and finally return 
home, without praying at all to any good 
purpose. 

One evening, after succeeding in mak- 
ing a short prayer, and having returned 
from the field, I heard a young man 
telling the family that he had heard seme 



30 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

one praying in the fence corner. His 
words were like daggers to my heart; 
I was so fearful that they would suspect 
me, that I ridiculed the idea, and re- 
plied it was a pity he had no other place 
of prayer. 

After striving in this way for a while, 
I found myself laboring under uncertain 
hopes and fears. 

Not being able to satisfy myself that 
my repentance and contrition was of 
the right kind, I began to see that the 
fear of man was one of my greatest hin- 
drances in seeking God. I therefore 
determined to break through that fear. 
For this purpose I selected an apple tree 
near the house, as the place of retire- 
ment. 

I judged the family could easily hear 
me from that tree. This was a great 
cross. I also concluded to keep all the 
commandments of God. I set about 
this with great earnestness, but I soon 



OF G. W. BATCHELDEIt. 31 

found, to the great anguish of my soul, 
that I could not live one day without 
committing some known sin. This 
caused my grief to increase, and I cried 
out, in the language of St. Paul, "0, 
wretched man that I am, who shall de- 
liver me," &c. God's method of saving 
sinners, I thought I never should under- 
stand. At length I gave way to despair, 
and had the worst apprehensions of pun- 
ishment for my sins. My sins increased, 
and appeared to rise like mountains be- 
fore me. My soul was convulsed with- 
in me, with awful forbodings of ever- 
lasting fire. There appeared to be a 
heavy weight hanging on my heart. 

These awful feelings continued for 
several weeks. I still attended meet- 
ings, and strove all the while to pray at 
the apple-tree and in my bed-chamber. 
At length my health declined. I was 
now ready to give up all as lost. I en- 
vied the beasts of the field, and wished 



32 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

to die, and know the worst of my fate. 
But that God who saw Hagar in the wil- 
derness, and who never suffers a soul 
who is sincere to seek him in vain, was 
watching all my struggles to find him. 

One evening, while I was praying in 
the orchard, a pious old lady who was 
from the city, on a visit to the family, 
came into the orchard, and, when I was 
done praying, came to me, and wept 
over me. She seemed to sympathize so 
much with me, and encouraged me to 
persevere on, that it seemed like oil 
poured into my wounded heart. This 
encouragement seemed to come from 
heaven. Glory to God ! This old lady 
is yet living, and although she is nearly 
eighty years of age, still she remembers 
with animated joy, the moment when 
she was made the instrument of encour- 
agement to my soul. I lately visited 
this mother in Israel, whose name is 
Campbell, and I found her like an an- 



OF G. W. BATCHELHF.lt. 33 

cient saint rejoicing in hope of the glory 
of God. 

Again I tried to pour out my whole 
soul in agonizing prayer, and to make a 
mighty effort to throw myself on the 
mercy of God. After struggling for 
some time, and finding no relief, I re- 
turned to the house. When I reached 
the door, it came into my mind that if 
I would return and pray once more, my 
sins would be pardoned. Aw T ay I start- 
ed for the apple-tree. As I passed 
through a little gate-way that lead to the 
orchard, I said, "when I pass through 
this gate- way again, I shall be happy." 
But, though I tried hard, it was all in 
vain. 

It now occurred to my mind, Fbelieve 
for the first time, that I ought to unde- 
ceive my worthy friend, Father Fleeson, 
who thought that I was living in the 
enjoyment of religion, when I knew 
3 



34" A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

that I was not. I started the same night, 
and, on my arrival, found him at home. 

He enquired kindly after my health, 
which I could hardly answer. When 
I began to weep, he was surprised, and 
urged me to tell him the cause. I told 
him as well as I could, that I was a poor 
wretched sinner, and I feared there was 
no mercy for me. This so astonished 
him, that he scarce knew what to reply. 
He at length replied, "I was sure you 
had experienced religion before you 
were baptized." I told him that I was 
deluded myself, and had deceived the 
church. He encouraged me not to fear, 
and he would tell me how the Lord con- 
verted his soul. He informed me that 
he had struggled with the same kind of 
fears, and how he labored under the 
same difficulties and anxieties of mind, 
and how he found mercy and forgive- 
ness for all his sins. 

My attention was now arrested. 1 



OJT G. W. BATCIIELDEIt. 35 

never had heard the like before. It 
seemed as if he was telling my own tri- 
als. I began to feel a glimmering hope 
spring up within my soul. When he 
reached that part of his experience 
where he flew to Christ as his only 
refuge, 1 stood astonished before the 
high and generous character of Almighty 
God. I contemplated with deep inte- 
rest the compassion and love of the ado- 
rable Redeemer. My eyes seemed to 
be fastened on that spectacle of grace, 
the cross of Christ. I felt a glorious 
light breaking in upon my dark mind, 
and when this man of God had closed 
his relation he said, "Let us pray." 
My knees had scarcely touched the 
floor before, by faith, I beheld my Sa- 
viour, with arms extended wide to re- 
ceive me, and, with a gracious look he 
bid me come. My faith laid hold, I 
seemed to fly right into his arms. The 
Sun of Righteousness arose in my soul, 



36 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

with the full splendor of heavenly glo- 
ry. I was filled with rapture. That 
heavy weight that hung about my heart 
was removed. Not one sin could I see, 
they were all gone. 1 was not only de- 
livered from the wrath of God, but a 
great change had passed upon me, so 
much so, that I did not appear to be the 
same person. I was indeed made a new 
creature in Christ. I did not say much 
to my spiritual father. I was glad to 
get out on the turnpike, that I might 
give vent to my feelings. I went home, 
praising God all the way. Oh, what a 
change! When I left home, I felt that 
my sins were crushing me down to the 
gulf of despair. But now they were 
all forgiven. Now God the Father con- 
sented to receive the poor prodigal from 
the jaws of hell. 

Thus, in the twentieth year of my 
age, through the atoning blood of Christ 
was my polluted soul washed from all 



OF G. W. BATCHELDER. 37 

its sins. My heart was changed by 
that heavenly principle which penetrates 
the soul, purifies the affections, and regu- 
lates the desires of the humble believer 
in Christ. I was now truly happy, and 
expected to have no more trouble. But 
soon my old enemy came back, and I 
was variously tempted ; but never once 
do I remember to have doubted my con- 
version to God. So wonderful was the 
change, that Satan himself could not 
dispute it with me. 

Perhaps rt would be well to state here, 
for fear that some might be perplexed, 
whose convictions and conversions have 
not been so evident and clear as my 
own, lest some may be lead to doubt 
their spiritual state, who are truly pious, 
that, although it is necessary that we 
should repent and be made sensible of 
our lost and perishing condition, and 
our need of pardon, to dispose us to re- 
ceive Christ as our only Saviour; and, 



38 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

although I believe that no being living 
can enjoy religion without being certain 
that they have it, yet I believe there are 
many, who have made the most eminent 
Christians, who have not been able to 
give many particulars with regard to 
their conversion, and were often after- 
wards tempted to believe that they were 
mistaken; but on going to God in hum- 
ble prayer they have found the witness 
again within their own souls, for "he 
that is born of God," will have "the 
spirit to bear witness with theirs, that 
they are the children of God." 

My apprenticeship with Mr. H. now 
expired, and he not having employment 
for me, I left his house, and went to 
work in a place called Mount Airy, 
above Germantown. I had not been 
long in this place before I lost all my 
religion. I became spiritually blinded; 
my heart hardened with errors the most 
ruinous to my soul, and was the cause of 



OF G. W. BATCHELPElt. 39 

much grief to my friends. My em- 
ployer informed me that his next door 
neighbor, who was a well informed man, 
was a strong and confirmed Universalist, 
and that I must take good care or he 
would proselyte me to that doctrine. I 
replied that I did not apprehend any 
danger, as the Bible was very clear 
with regard to future rewards and pun- 
ishments. 

He informed this Universalist of what 
I had said. The Universalist according. 
ly came in to see me. I told him that 
I was very sorry that he believed such 
a pernicious doctrine. He answered, 
it is the doctrine of the Bible. I then 
got the Bible, out of which he wished 
me to prove that there is a place of 
punishment beyond the grave. I se- 
lected several passages that speak of 
rewards and punishments in* another 
world in as strong language as could be 
employed. But I soon found that I 



40 A NAHRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

had more than a match to contend with, 
and would have given the argument up, 
but he would not let me. He was a 
man of learning, and was well read. I 
had no learning, and had not read much 
in any books, but the Bible; besides I 
was inexperienced. He informed me 
that the Scriptures were wrongly trans- 
lated in many places, that the reading 
in the original was different from the 
reading of the present translation, and 
that there was so much uncertainty in 
many parts of the Bible, that it could 
not be relied upon as being inspired in 
all its parts; and of course ought not to 
be respected. This was all new to me, 
and filled my mind with many per- 
plexities. Until now I had looked 
upon my Bible as being all true — yea, 
the very truth of God. He strove hard 
to convince me that I was wrong, but 
I was slow to believe. After about 
three hours labor he left me. I then 



OF G. W. BATCHELDER. 41 

went to my Heavenly Father, and most 
earnestly prayed that he would not suf- 
fer me to believe what that man had 
said, if it were not true. 

The next day he was at me again. I 
found 1 was to have no rest from his 
efforts to proselyte me. He now gave 
me some of his books, desiring me to 
read them, saying that they would 
prove the doctrine of Universalism to 
be true. I read the books and became 
very unhappy. I thought, • can it be 
that I have been under a delusion until 
now? Is there no reality in all my re- 
ligious experience? Have I not been 
converted to God, and has all my hap- 
piness been only a dream? Must I look 
upon my Bible, that has been so dear 
to me, as being no better than other 
books? Must I renounce Christ, my 
only Saviour, and regard him as being 
merely a good man? for this was one 
of the ingredients in my neighbor's doc- 



4*2 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

trine. It was suggested to my mind, 
it is even so, you have been in the 
dark until now. Now 1 began, for the 
first time, to doubt the reality of my 
own experience. In great distress of 
mind I went to see a Lutheran preacher, 
the Rev. Mr. Baker. I stated to him 
my affliction of mind, and the cause of 
it. He took a great deal of pains to 
show me that the Universalist's doc- 
trine was not true, but was ruinous in 
its tendency, and that it was not founded 
in the Bible. I left him, perfectly satis- 
fied that my opponent was wrong. On 
my way home I was not a little sur- 
prised at meeting him on the way. He 
desired me to tell him what the preach- 
er had said. After telling as near as I 
could recollect, he fell at work again, 
and for about two hours strove to undo 
all that the preacher had done. He 
said, among other things, that these 
- preachers knew better, but that it was 



OF G. W. BATCHELDBB* 4'i 

to their interest to keep the people in 
the dark, because their living depended 
on it. When I left him, I betook myself 
to my strong hold, namely prayer, and 
on reviewing my past history, together 
with my mother's piety, I felt some 
comfort, and thought the man might 
talk, but I would hold on by faith to 
my blessed Redeemer. 

But another plan was now laid, 
which, alas! was successful. He told 
me that there was no use in leaving my 
work to pray; that I could pray as well 
on my seat as I could on my knees in 
my chamber, and that there was no- 
thing more meant by prayer than bare- 
ly thinking on God, a grateful feeling, 
a good desire, and the like, which ne- 
ver need be expressed by words, and I 
might save myself a great deal of trou- 
ble, and be accepted quite as well by 
him who seeth in secret, &c. After 
a little time this advice had the very 



44» A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

effect for which it was given by my un- 
wearied enemy. 

By degrees I left off prayer, and gave 
up to those errors which had a tendency 
to carry my soul to ruin and perdition. 
As soon as I ceased praying, and ab- 
sented myself from the closet after the 
bustle of the day was over, I became an 
easy prey to all the destructive doc- 
trines of this Universalist. Had I con- 
tinued faithful in that most important 
duty, I do think I should not have been 
caught by the cunning craftiness of man. 
I was now converted to this man's 
opinion. I had until this time believed 
that God had appointed a time and 
place where every thing would be set 
right, and every man receive according 
to his own works; that life eternal was 
prepared for the righteous; and ever- 
lasting punishment for the wicked. I 
believed that ample provision had been 
made for all and every man on the face 



OV G. w. batchi:luer. 45 

of the whole earth by Jesus Christ, the 
eternal Son of God, whereby all men 
might be saved if they would comply 
with the conditions of the Gospel, 
which are repentance towards God and 
faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. That 
all have freedom of action alike; that 
all have an equal chance for heaven, al- 
though all have not the same means of 
grace, yet every man is to be judged 
according to what he hath, and not ac- 
cording to what he hath not, and if we 
are not saved it will be our own fault, 
and not to be charged to a gracious 
God. 

I also believed in the divinity of the 
blessed Jesus. My belief of this was 
founded, and is now founded, on 
the fact that all the attributes that 
are found in God, the Father, are 
ascribed to, and found in him; that 
omnipresence, or to be every where 
present at the same time; omniscience, 



46 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

his unbounded wisdom; omnipotence, 
or almighty power, which he displays on 
many occasions. Another attribute in 
Christ Which only belongs to God, 
namely, eternity of existence. He is 
called by the prophet the Everlasting 
Father, &c. Besides he suffered the 
people to worship him while on earth 
which he could not have done in right- 
eousness had he been any other being 
than God. These doctrines I obtained 
not from man nor the books of man; for 
I had not read any confession of faith, 
neither Baptist, Quaker, Methodist, or 
any other human creed. I derived 
them solely from the Word of God, 
from my Bible. Up to that period 
(the time of embracing the doctrine of 
Universalism) the Word of God was a 
treasure dear to my heart — but now it 
was lightly estimated, for I was now 
led to believe that it was not all true, 
^Snd by altering some passages, and 



OF G. W. BATCIIELDEK. 47 

throwing away others as spurious, by 
the assistance of the devil and this 
Universalis^ I subscribed to this form 
of doctrine, — 1st that there is no devil 
but what is in man; and that all men, 
both good and bad, when they leave 
this world, go immediately to heaven, 
and are eternally happy. 

2dly. That Jesus Christ was only a 
good man — a mere man, and should not 
be worshipped as God; and all that is 
required of us is to lead a moral life. 

Alas! what a fallen, degraded mortal 
I was now. Oh, let my deplorable case 
be a warning to all! Oh, man! who- 
ever thou art, give up such wicked op- 
position to the Bible, and go to the Son 
of God, before whom every knee shall 
bow. 

I now went more seldom to my 
Heavenly Father in prayer, yet there 
were times that I sighed after the old 
path, and mourned to return again. But 



48 A NARRATIVE OF THE LI1E 

I found the roots of infidelity springing 
up in my heart and captivating my 
whole soul; and if God had not looked 
in mercy upon me, I should have went 
on, step by step, until I should have de- 
nied the very existence of religion, and 
perhaps of the Deity himself — like 
Abner Kneeland, who was, at that time, 
one of the pillars of the Universalist 
church, but is now one of the worst of 
infidels. 

I now seldom went to any place of 
worship. I went once to the church 
where I belonged. My good old father 
Fleeson had heard of my wretched state, 
and wept so much on my account that 
I became distressed. I saw him no 
more until some years after, when he 
was dying. A committee was appointed 
to investigate the matter, but I declined 
meeting it, and was of course expelled. 

About one year after this I left 
Mount Airy, and went to work in Ken- 



OF G. W. BATCHELDKIt. 49 

sington, Philadelphia. My employer 
was a Methodist class leader. I did 
not let him know what I believed with 
regard to religion. In the neigborhood 
where I now resided, there was, at this 
time, a great excitement occasioned by 
the Methodist Episcopal Church in 
Kensington silencing the Rev. Samuel 
Kennard, who was pastor of said 
church, from preaching until the Annual 
Conference. This was owing to some 
complaints preferred against him by 
some of the members of said church, for 
which it is not proper for me here to 
speak, only I would say that Mr. Ken- 
nard was acquitted of these charges ren- 
dered against him by the Kensington 
Church. Mr. Kennard thought it not 
proper to obey the injunctions of that 
Quarterly Conference, and commenced 
preaching, first on the wharf, then in a 
school-house in that vicinity. There it 
4 



50 A NAItllATIYE OF THE LIFE 

was that I went to hear him, and under 
his preaching my sandy foundation was 
taken away. After about two hours' 
struggle in that school-house, I found 
mercy, which many who are yet living 
can testify. I was again established in 
the doctrines of the Bible. 

I believed Mr. Kennard was a sound 
preacher, and a man of God. I joined 
his society, which had now withdrawn 
from the M. E. Church, and stood on 
their own ground. I now found that 
the doctrines I had embraced and be- 
lieved before I saw that Universalist, 
were preached by all the Methodist 
preachers, but as yet I had not seen 
their discipline. I was delighted with 
class meetings, and the many means of 
grace that I found in use in the church. 
I now felt an impression resting on my 
mind that it wgs my duty to preach the 
gospel. The like impression I felt soon 
after I was first converted to God, but 



OF (i. W. IIATCHELDEIt. 51 

I plead then, as now, the want of an 
education, and concluded that I must be 
deceived. So I refused. But I labored 
much in prayer meetings, and I trust 
some good was done thereby. I prayed 
much in secret, having learned by wo- 
ful experience what it was to neglect 
that important duty. I was mostly 
happy; but sometimes I found my way 
hard and thorny. This was owing not 
a little to ungodly shopmates, who 
sometimes sported with religion and 
sacred things. On one occasion one of 
my shopmates, a wild young man, fol- 
lowed me up stairs to the garret, where 
I went to pray. I commenced praying, 
and he commenced laughing; I made 
him the burden of my prayer. God in 
mercy sent conviction to his heart, and 
he knew not what to do with himself. 
The next day he went with me to the 
same place, and, after struggling some- 
time in prayer, God converted his soul. 



52 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

He shouted so loud that our employer 
and others came to see what was the 
matter. Reader, " let your light so 
shine, that others, seeing your good 
works, may glorify your Heavenly Fa- 
ther." 

This young man joined the Methodist 
church, and I believe is a member yet. 
I stayed about eighteen months with 
that society, and becoming much afflict- 
ed, I concluded to travel. 



OF G. W. BATCHLLDER. 53 



CHAPTER IV. 

His travels to Newark, New York, Boston, Salem, 
and return. His exercise to the call and work of the Mi- 
nistry. Death of Mr. Kennard. His removal to Wilming- 
ton, Del. His marriage and return to Kensington, etc. 

Mr. Kennard requested me to con- 
tinue my membership with them, over 
whom he had the pastoral care; and, as 
I expected to return again, I did not ob- 
ject to the proposal. I went from this 
to Newark, New Jersey. Though I 
continued in this place two years, I did 
not join any society. Still I strove to 
serve God, attending meeting in the 
Methodist Church. 

My state of debility increased until I 
could scarcely work. Being much dis- 
couraged, I sold what things I could 
spare, and started for New York. In 
this place I was put to my wit's end to 



54» A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

know what to do. At length I went 
on board of a steamboat which was 
about starting for Albany, and the day 
after I arrived there. In about* three 
hours' walk from Albany I arrived at a 
place called Shaker's Village. Feeling 
much fatigued, and in great distress of 
mind on aceount of my present condi- 
tion, I concluded to stop and see these 
Shakers, who numbered here about 
seven hundred. I met with a warm 
reception. They showed me much re- 
spect and kindness, but their manner of 
worship appeared so inconsistent to me 
— it consisting principally in dancing, 
shaking, and marching up and down 
the room — that I soon became uneasy, 
and only stayed three days with them. 
They charged me nothing for my en- 
tertainment, which was a great kind- 
ness to me, as my means were now 
small. Although I perceived my 
strength increasing, yet it took me three 



OF G. W. BATCHELDEU. OD 

days to travel forty miles on foot, 
which brought me to Northampton, 
ninety-six miles this side of Boston. 
Here I found myself penniless. I con- 
cluded to part with my overcoat, which 
I could very well spare, it being in the 
month of April. Although it was worth 
fifteen dollars, I got but five for it. I 
then took stage for Boston. At this 
place I stayed one night, and then left 
for Salem, nine miles beyond Boston. 
I had some near relations in this town 
in easy circumstances, that I had never 
seen before. Being unwilling that they 
should know my poverty, and as my 
health had much improved, I concluded 
to try to get a seat of work. In this I 
succeeded — but I was much afflicted on 
learning the character of those who 
were to be my shopmates — who were 
five in number, two deists and three 
Universalists. Our employer was also a 
Universalist, who was much in the shop. 



56 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

I had suffered so much from wicked 
shopmates, that my heart sickened at 
the thought of working with such cha- 
racters. But for this there was no al- 
ternative; work with them I must. I 
was overcome with tormenting fear — 
the fear of man. My way was so hard 
that I concluded that I might as well 
cease my strife for heaven. I doubted 
whether I ever should gain that happy 
place. 

So powerfully was I tempted that at 
last I yielded to the temptation. As I 
was an entire stranger in the place, I 
determined not to let any one know 
that I had ever been religious. Soon 
after this determination I entered the 
shop. They soon enquired after my 
religion. I told them I did not belong 
to any religious society. On hearing 
this they seemed pleased, and sent for 
some black strap, (as they called it,) 
consisting of rum and molasses. After 



OF O. W. llATCHELDElt. 57 

I had drank with them, they requested 
me to sing a song. I answered I can- 
not, but they insisted, and I consented 
to try. I began to sing one that I had 
known when a boy; but oh, the horror 
of that moment! My Saviour seemed 
to look on me as he did on Peter. I 
sung a few lines and left the shop, and 
in a retired place I sought mercy for 
this my wickedness. I would have 
gladly recalled my conduct, but I could 
not. I now made a covenant with Al- 
mighty God, that if he would pardon 
my sin, I would own him before men 
or devils. I again found peace, and 
returned to the shop: I told them that 
1 had deceived them; that I had been 
trying to serve God, and would still 
strive to save my soul. A few days 
after this I joined the M. E. Church 
on probation. 

How true it is that " no man can 
serve two masters." I knew that it 



58 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

was a part of religion to acknowledge 
the hope that was in me, but I feared 
persecution. I was now counted a fool 
because I was in earnest in the cause of 
my salvation; but God was with me, 
and, although one of the deists would 
fall down on his knees before me, and 
make a mock prayer, and use the most 
profane language, and abuse the Scrip- 
tures to irritate me, yet I felt that I was 
upon a rock, and the " gates of hell 
could not prevail against me. " I seemed 
now to grow in grace every day. My 
employer tried hard to convince me of 
the truth of Universalism, but I was care- 
ful to guard against the arts and insinua- 
tions of such as set themselves up for 
teachers of infidelity and irreligion. I 
already had a sad experience of the 
great danger of listening to men who 
spend their thoughts on the subject of 
infidelity. 

In this place I became a class leader. 



OF ii. W. BATCHELDEU. 59 

After I had been there about one year, 
so strongly was 1 impressed with the 
duty of entering into the ministry, that 
I determined to return home and con- 
sult with Mr. Kennard on that subject. 

I left that dear people, whose kind- 
ness to me I shall never forget. I took 
passage in one of the Salem packets 
bound for New York, to which . place, 
after a wearisome passage of seven days 
we arrived in safety. From New York 
I went to Newark, N. J. to see my 
old friends; Oh, what a deliverance 
had the Lord wrought for me! One 
year ago I left this place with nothing 
before me but temporal ruin — without 
health, with but little money, and I 
might say without friends. Now my 
health was good, and I had both money 
and friends, and the best of all I was 
happy in God. 

I stayed about three days in Newark, 
and then left for Trenton. Here I 



60 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

learned, what deeply affected me, the 
death of Rev. Mr. Kennard. He had 
been long afflicted with bodily disease 
and now was no more. 

I hastened to Philadelphia, and found 
the Church over which he had been 
pastor in tears. Mr. Kennard's ardent 
zeal and laborious efforts to seek and? 
save the lost, had no doubt hastened his 
death, which was every where lament- 
ed, and all could say, a "great man 
hath fallen in Israel." The sorrowful 
emotions of my own heart I shall not 
attempt to describe. I knew that I had 
lost a friend and a counsellor — such a 
one as I thought could not be replaced 
on earth. I had travelled several hun- 
dred miles to make known the exer- 
cises of my mind to Mr. Kennard, but 
he was now gone to reap his reward in 
heaven. 

I now laid my case before the Rev. 
Mr. Bowers, who was now pastor of 



OF G. W. HATCHELDEK. ()1 

the church which had been vacated by 
the death of Mr. Kennard. He con- 
cluded that I should take his appoint- 
ment on the next Sabbath morning; 
which I attempted with weakness and 
trembling. Although I made out but 
little, yet my friends encouraged me 
to try again. 

I was now twenty-seven years of age. 
In order to know more fully the will of 
the Lord concerning me, I took a tour 
through the country, making appoint- 
ments and trying to preach. Not find- 
ing that liberty I expected in the effort, 
I returned much discouraged, believing 
I was under a mistake; but my friends 
being of a contrary opinion urged me 
on. Sometimes I though^ it was from 
the Lord, then I would think of my 
small abilities, and could not believe it 
possible. While thus perplexed, it 
came into my mind to leave the place, 
and go where I was not known, which 



t)2 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

would put an end to my preaching. 
Accordingly I left Philadelphia again, 
anjj went to Wilmington, Delaware. 
Here I obtained a seat of work, and 
joined theM. E. Church — again on pro- 
bation. 

I felt now as Jonah did when he 
would not obey the Lord. My way 
was more or less dreary — my suffer- 
ings at times were great — but still I 
would not make known the exercises of 
my mind. I now concluded that it 
might conduce to my comfort to change 
my relation in life; and having formed 
an attachment to Miss Eliza King prior 
to my leaving Philadelphia, who was a 
young woman, though not much expe- 
rienced in religion, yet in many re- 
spects I thought would make me a suita- 
ble companion. 

I then resolved to return to Phila- 
delphia, for the purpose of completing 
my affection in matrimonial vows — 



OF G. W. BATCHELDEIl. ()3 

which being done, we returned to Wil- 
mington, where we resided about two 
years, at which time my health was 
again so reduced that I could scarcely 
attend to my temporal concerns. 

We were now advised by some of 
our Kensington friends to move back 
in that place. Believing such a step 
would be for the best, we did so. Still 
feeling a strong affection for the Ken- 
nardites, and living close to their meet- 
ing, we both joined that society. 



64 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 



CHAPTER V. 

Backsliding and causes, etc. Reclaimed and union 
with the Harmony M. E. Church. The converted Infidel, 
his Death, etc. Removal to Moorestown, N. Jersey, and 
union with the M. E. Church, his labors in that neighbor- 
hood. Discovers his mistake on the subject of sanctifica- 
tion. 

It was now evident to myself that if 
I would save my own soul, that I must 
try to save others also. I labored much 
in prayer and class meetings, and seem- 
ed to progress onward toward the mark 
of Christian perfection, which I felt it 
my duty to obtain. 

Finding it inconvenient to abide in 
Kensington any longer, I removed into 
the city convenient to my work. As 
we were now some distance from our 
place of worship, I felt at liberty to go 
elsewhere. I went first to one place 
of worship, and then to another, but 



OF (i. W. BATCHEL1»ER. 65 

could not feel at home any where. I 
found no resting place, but was always 
a stranger, and was never like a child 
at home. The consequence was I be- 
came unstable, and gave great occasicm 
to the temptations of the enemy. I 
found I could not live out of the church, 
and so I joined the St. John's M. E. 
Church. Still I was continually mourn- 
ing over a backsliding heart. Though 
I w r ould seek God at times as the thirsty 
heart would the water brook, yet my 
soul was not established in religion. I 
found myself sinning through the day, 
and repenting at night. 

After living a few months in this way, 
I entirely despaired of ever getting be- 
yond this wretched state. And as I 
would not on any account be a hypo- 
crite — I always thought I would rather 
be no Christian at all than to be a hypo- 
critical one— so I thought it best rather 



66 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

than to injure the cause, to withdraw 
quietly from the church, and make no 
pretensions to a religious life. 

This dreadful step I now took. I 
told my friends it was one of necessity 
— though others served God, yet I 
could not. For some time after this I 
seldom went to meeting; for when I 
did, I would feel the pangs of sorrow 
more keenly, knowing that I was the 
barren fig-tree that encumbered the 
ground. 

But once more God had pity on my 
poor soul. It so happened that a friend 
of mine w T ho resided in New York, who 
was now on a visit to this city, called 
to see me, and who had once been zeal- 
ous in the cause of God — a class leader 
in the church — but was now on the 
road to death and destruction. He was 
surprised when I told him that I was in 
the same situation. We talked over 
the happy seasons we once enjoyed to- 



OF G. W. BATCHELI1EII. 67 

gether, and contrasted them with our 
present enjoyments, until we became 
quite dissatisfied with ourselves. I 
proposed that we should set out again 
and seek that happiness that we had 
lost. He agreed to do so if he should 
be spared to reach New York. ■ I said, 
why not now? you can get it here as 
well as in New York! I will now— 
this very hour — begin to seek God. 
He looked astonished, and replied, you 
will! Yes, I answered; my mind is 
made up. 

It was then Sabbath evening, and the 
hour had arrived for public worship. 
He said he could not go to meeting 
with me; but 1 resolved that nothing 
but sickness or death should prevent 
me. I arose from my seat, took my 
hat and left him. I bent my w T ay to- 
ward a Methodist meeting-house called 
'Harmony/ just established in Budd 
street. When I left my door, I had a 



68 



A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 



full discovery -of my heart. I resolved, 
like Jacob, to wrestle until I prevailed. 
My faith became strong, and before I 
reached the place of worship I felt that 
I was accepted of my Heavenly Father. 
It seemed that He met me on the way. 
This was in 1836. < Harmony' now 
became my spiritual home, and I re- 
solved to do my duty to both God and 
man. 

We had Brother F. Miller for our 
stationed preacher; the little church 
flourished under his administration, so 
that the membership soon increased 
from seventy to one hundred and 
twenty. 

After I had stood out my probation, 
I was made a class leader and an ex- 
horter in that charge. I now dreaded 
that instability of character which so 
often marked my path, which had not 
only well nigh destroyed myself, but 
had its influence upon others, and had 



OF G. W. BATCHELDER. g9 

made the cause of religion to suffer, 
and good men to weep. 

I could easily see that I had acted too 
much from feeling and the impulse of 
circumstances; and when they changed, 
I changed also. So I was constantly 
shifting and running away from the 
cross, and consequently I became an 
easy prey to the temptations of the 
enemy. I now determined, by the 
help of God, to take up every cross and 
live by rule. I knew I must pray 
more and differently from what I had 
been in the habit of doing. I had been 
accustomed to pray in my family when 
it was convenient. I now read the 
Word of God and prayed in my family 
night and morning regularly. Neither 
had I been uniform in secret prayer. 
Sometimes I would retire, and at other 
times omit it. I now visited my closet 
at least three times a day. 

I had also indulged in a spirit of le- 



70 ^ NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

vity, such as trifling, foolish, and vain 
conversation. I now made it my duty 
to watch over my words, as well as my 
actions. I also perceived that I had 
tried to get along in my own strength: 
I now cultivated a child-like feeling, 
and attended all the means of grace — 
preaching, prayer and class meetings. 

Oh, how inconsistent is man in his 
depraved state! They manifest great 
concern about their pleasures and poli- 
tical pursuits.- They are fired with am- 
bition in pursuit of wealth, fame, and 
honor; but about religion they manifest 
no concern, or, if they do admit its pro- 
priety, it is to be sought after without 
any energy. What a melancholy fact 
it is, that a man may exert all the facul- 
ties of the soul, destined to live forever, 
in the arts and sciences, and even in 
war, all of which are deemed honorable 
in the opinion of the world; but if a 
man, with more than common anxiety, 






OF G. W. BATCHELDER. 71 

seeks to save that soul, he is looked 
upon as a fanatic, or an enthusiast, and 
many wonder at, and pity him on that 
account. Many there are who are 
fearful of being too religious, when, at 
the same time, it is to be feared they 
have no religion at all. I can perceive 
no danger of having too much religion 
to fit one for heaven, but that there is 
great danger of having too little. 

I can feel for that man who looks 
with a cold indifference on all that is 
grand in the promises and providences 
of Almighty God. 

Now I was determined to make eve- 
ry thing bend to religion. I knew 
from my own experience, that if per- 
severance and decision of character are 
necessary in any pursuit, they are in- 
dispensable in prosecuting a pious, reli- 
gious life. 

About the time of my union with 
the Harmony Church, a young man — 



72 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

a stranger to me — called at the shop 
where I was at work. While in con- 
versation with him, I introduced the 
subject of religion. I soon found that 
he was an unbeliever in the Christian 
religion. I tried to convince him that 
the Bible was the infallible word of 
God, and without it all is dark and 
dreary ; that reason itself could not pene- 
trate beyond the tomb. He soon left 
me. Sometime after he called again: 
he was then of another mind, and under 
deep conviction; after some further con- 
versation on the importance of his sal- 
vation, he again left me. In a few days 
he returned and informed me that he 
had became a Methodist, and that God 
had pardoned his sins, and made him a 
new creature in Christ Jesus. We 
formed now an attachment like that of 
David and Jonathan, and were knit to- 
gether in love. In a short time after 
this he became very sick. A disease 



OF G. Wk BATCHELPER. 73 

fastened upon him which soon put an 
end to his mortal existence. For some 
days prior to his death he was confined 
to his room. 1 spent much time with 
him in his bed-chamber. He informed 
me that, although he knew his sins were 
pardoned, yet there was something so 
terrible in death that he was reluctant 
to die. I expressed to him my belief 
that he would not shrink when his last 
hour should arrive; for I had never 
read or heard of a true disciple of Christ 
that did not- find dying grace when 
needed. 

I greatly desired to be with him in 
his last moments, that I might witness 
the manner of his death. This privi- 
lege was granted me. In a few days 
after, as I called to see him about sun- 
rise, I found him sitting in his arm- 
chair, and discovered that his last hour 
had now arrived. I said, Brother, how 
is it with you? He replied, I have no 



74 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

fear; all is right; I am just going home; 
Brother Batchelder, let us pray once 
more together : I took him in my arms 
in order to help him on his knees; but 
I found he was too far gone. In a mo- 
ment more he crossed the stream. Oh, 
how narrow must that stream be to the 
Christian — it is so soon passed! " Oh 
death, where is thy sting." Let the 
disciples and friends of Jesus be encou- 
raged. " Blessed are the dead that die 
in the Lord." 

About this time there was much said 
about Christian perfection in the church 
to which I belonged, and some profess- 
ed to receive and enjoy it. 

I thought somewhat on the subject, 
but not sufficiently; but with many 
others I began to seek for that blessing. 
One evening at a prayer meeting, where 
there were many praying for that bless- 
ing I felt much of the power of God 
resting upon me. Believing that I had 



OF G. W. BATCHELDER. 75 

obtained the heavenly treasure, I felt 
it my duty to tell what the Lord had 
done for me. I bore public testimony 
to the blessing of entire holiness of 
heart. I now seemed to advance in 
spiritual things, though I was kept in 
the furnace of affliction sometimes for 
months together. 

Owing to severe affliction of body, 
which occasioned my family much dis- 
tress — with the advice of Brother B — 
and wife — I moved near Moorestown, 
N. J. and attached myself to the M. 
E. Church in that place, and enjoyed 
many happy meetings with that people. 
Class meeting was held at my house 
once a week; besides we had a travel- 
ing prayer meeting in the neigborhood, 
which was a blessing to many. Here I 
became acquainted with Rev. S. Town- 
send, who was one of our circuit 
preachers. He urged believers to seek 
entire sanctification, both soul, body, 



76 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

and spirit; telling them it was their pri- 
vilege to walk with God as Enoch did, 
and to have the testimony in their own 
breasts that all their actions, thoughts, 
and words pleased God. I found his 
faith reached further than mine, and I 
began to fear that I might be deceived 
on that subject. Although I knew I 
enjoyed a tolerable degree of religion, 
and was better established in Christ than 
I had ever been before, yet, on exam- 
ining my heart, and all my conduct, I 
could see things that God could not, and 
did not, approve of. I knew that there 
must be a mistake somewhere; that 
Brother T. had either raised the stand- 
ard too high, or that I had not raised it 
high enough ; and that if Brother Town- 
send's standard was the correct one, I 
did not enjoy the spirit of an entire 
sanctified soul. This gave me much 
perplexity of mind on the subject, 
which I thought best to keep to myself. 



or i;. \v. bati/ui:li»eu. 77 

I now began to increase my official 
labors in the church, but still with much 
weakness, though the Lord blessed my 
efforts to do good, in some degree, yet 
I was still tempted, as formerly, to go 
around the cross. 

One Sabbath I had two appointments 
to fill for Brother C — , a local preacher. 
My first appointment was at the Stone 
Meeting House; here I had some liber- 
ty. In the afternoon I tried to preach 
at Cooperstown. After meeting was 
over I was so tempted that I had done 
wrong in preaching, that I went into 
private, and promised God that if he 
would forgive me, I never would try 
to preach again. 

Soon after my soul was bowed down 
within me, and I had to repent again, 
and promise God to do whatsoever he 
should command. 



78 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 



CHAPTER VI. 

His removal to the Cross Roads, near Medford, New 
Jersey. Severe trials ; death of a sister-in-law, etc. A 
tour with the Rev. W. Rogers, up Jersey. A change of 
views on the subject of sanctification, etc. 

In the spring of 1840, I removed to 
the Cross Roads, near Medford, and 
united myself with the M. E. Church 
in that place also. Here new and fresh 
trials awaited me; but, bless the Lord, 
I felt that my faith was strong, and that 
His grace would be sufficient for me ; 
and that neither famine, nakedness, 
fire, or the sword could " separate me 
from the love of God which is in Christ 
Jesus my Lord." I felt, to say with 
Job, "though He slay me, yet will I 
trust in Him." 

I found but little employment here 
for several months; and, having nothing 



OF G. W. BATCHELDEll. 79 

beforehand, I was much straightened 
in my temporal circumstances. And, 
to add to this affliction, a twin-sister to 
my wife, who was in poor health, came 
to pay us a visit from Philadelphia, for 
the purpose of recruiting her health; 
but her hope was not realized; for she 
constantly grew worse, and four weeks 
proved to us all that she must depart for 
another world. In view of her depar- 
ture she was greatly distressed, con- 
scious that she was not prepared for the 
change. , . 

This was a source of trouble to myself 
also, and I at once engaged in the means 
which could only accomplish that great 
object. I exhorted her to look to the 
Lord, and sought the Lord myself, in 
her behalf, and obtained visits from bro- 
ther Crouch, to assist her in coming to 
a blessed Saviour. 

Although she enjoyed no clear evi- 
dence of her acceptance with God an 



80 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

hour before her death, yet at that hour, 
while we were engaged in prayer, the 
room appeared to be filled with the 
presence of God, and her soul was set 
free, and when we arose from prayer, 
she fell asleep, I have no doubt in Jesus. 

In the fall, things began to wear a 
more pleasing aspect. I obtained regu- 
lar employment, and my soul was much 
blessed in trying to do good by laboring 
as an exhorter in the religious meetings 
in various places on this circuit. 

We had two excellent preachers on 
the circuit; men of tried piety; which 
was a great comfort to me. Besides, my 
wife and a sister of her's, both obtained 
religion during the winter. 

I had prayed for my companion seve- 
ral years, but not until now were my 
prayers answered. '"Ask and ye shall 
receive. " I now received. "Ask, 
and your joy shall be full." My joy 
was now full, and we were truly a hap- 



OF G. W. BATCHELDEIl. 81 

py family, rejoicing in hope of a blessed 

immortality. 

Nought of His word I found to fail, 
My faith in God it did prevail. 

In the summer of IS42, I became ac- 
quainted with Rev. Wm! Rogers, who 
was on a visit from Keyport, Monmouth 
County, N. J. where he was stationed 
as a preacher, to his father's, in Med- 
ford. On his return, he gave me a 
pressing invitation to accompany him. 
Having no particular engagements to 
prevent me, I accepted his kind invita- 
tion. On our way the conversation 
turned on the subject of entire sanctifi- 
cation, and holiness of heart and life. 
I informed him that sanctification did 
not exclude every unholy temper and 
passion from the heart; for I knew by 
experience, that some of them remained 
in my heart, although they had not the 
ascendancy over me; and I took it for 
6 



82 



A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 



granted that my experience was in ac- 
cordance with the scriptural meaning of 
holiness. Brother R. was astonished to 
hear me express myself thus, and in- 
formed me that I was in a mistake, and 
hoped that I would never preach that 
men could not he saved from every evil 
temper and propensity until death. He 
further observed to me that it was not a 
Methodist doctrine, neither was it a 
Scriptural doctrine, that men must die 
in order to cease from sin. He went on 
with such forcible reasonings, until 1 felt 
an unholy passion arising in my heart, 
and a strong desire to drive him from 
his position by argument, in order to 
get the victory over him. Thus two 
sinful passions arose in my heart at once, 
anger and pride; for I had a desire to 
conquer only for the sake of victory. 
At length, when I found I could not 
sustain myself, I then seemed to consent 
to what he said, and endeavored to shake 



OF G. W. BATrilKLDEH. 83 

off' that horror and darkness that seemed 
to envelope me. I smiled, but Oh! 
what a contention and tumult there was 
within me. I had often heard the same 
kind of reasoning as I now heard from 
Brother R. but I never suffered it to take 
such a hold of my feelings before. I 
now became an unhappy man. I knew 
something was wrong, but could not tell 
what it was. For three days my soul 
was in anguish, and a powerful convic- 
tion arose in my mind to return home, 
under a persuasion that some of my fami- 
ly were sick. But this was a delusion 
of Satan, accompanied with a strong de- 
sire to get clear of Brother R. whose 
arguments had convinced me of my er- 
ror, which hung like a mill-stone around 
my heart. 



84 A. NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 



CHAPTER VII. 

His pursuit after and enjoyment of the blessing- of Sanc- 
tification, etc. Licensed to preach at the Quarterly Meet- 
ing Conference in Medford, etc. The blessings of Justifi- 
cation and Sanctification contrasted in his own case. 

At length, God had mercy on my 
soul. I found, after praying much in 
the woods, a fixed purpose of heart to 
know the full meaning of sanctification, 
and, if possible, to obtain it, though it 
required years, or even until death. In 
that moment, the enemy was forced to 
surrender his strong hold. The impres- 
sion to return home, now left me, and 
my friendship for Brother R. returned. 
This took place at Brother Murphy's, 
at whose house we were then stopping. 
I concluded to tarry with this people 
three days longer. All my energies 
were now brought to bear on one point 



OF G. W. BATCHELDEH. 85 

of inquiry. Some of the friends there 
were witnesses to my intensity of inves- 
tigation of the subject. I read the Bible 
much, and all the books I could obtain 
bearing on that subject. 1 paid a visit 
to a Sister Baker, who was like an an- 
gel from heaven to my soul. She spoke 
from experience. She told me to carry 
my evil tempers, appetites and propen- 
sities of every kind, to Christ; that he 
could subdue and purify the whole of 
them, and regulate all my desires in 
such a manner that I could glorify God 
in all things. She told me that Christ 
was a perfect Saviour, and that he was 
fully able, and as fully willing to an- 
swer all possible demands of my being. 
While she thus conversed with me, on 
the subject, a cheerful hope arose in my 
soul that what she said might be true. 
I thought what a happy man I should be, 
if I could only live without committing 
any known sin; for many times I had 



86 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

even wished to die, that I might keep 
from offending God. It had all along 
seemed to me to be almost impossible 
to live without sin. I mean such sins 
as bring condemnation to the soul. But 
now the veil seemed to be lifted from 
mine eyes. I saw that my faith had 
been imperfect; that it had not entirely 
overcome the world, the flesh, and the 
devil, but through ignorance of the ful- 
ness of Christ to save from all sin, both 
inward and outward, to tear out by the 
roots that inbred corruption, which I 
always found to be in my heart, and 
over which I had wept and mourned 
much, believing I should never get en- 
tirely clear of it, until the day of my 
death. Owing to this ignorance, I had 
not sought after this high point of Chris- 
tian holiness. I was glad in my very 
soul that there was a possibility of liv- 
ing without offending God, for, as I 
have already observed, the thought of 



OF G. W. BATCHKLDElt. 87 

continuing more or less in sin had often 
filled me with sorrow. 

I now resorted to the woods, with a 
cheerful mind, expecting to receive^ 
without any difficulty, the all-cleansing 
blood of Christ to wash away the pollu- 
tion of sin. It being quite a warm day, 
and, as I thought I should not leave the 
woods without the blessing, I began to 
prepare myself deliberately, to wrestle 
with God in fervent and ardent prayer. 
I first took off my hat, then my coat, 
then my crayat, and went to work. I 
struggled hard, until I was nearly ex- 
hausted. I rested, and then at it 
again. 

After praying for some time, and do- 
ing, as I thought, all I could to obtain 
the blessing, I was filled with astonish- 
ment. Instead, of receiving the blessing 
of sanctification,in answer to my prayers, 
the most distressing views of inbred sin, 
were presented to my mind. I saw in- 



OO A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

deed that I had come short of glorifying 
God in all things, as it was my duty 
and privilege to do. I saw a general 
distrust of God scattered through my 
whole religious life. I was now brought 
to such a point, that I knew not what 
to do. It was suggested to my mind, 
« Can this mountain of sin be removed?" 
"Yes," I thought, "but not now." 
Still I did not flinch from my settled 
purpose never to stop until I obtained 
the blessing. I felt as if I had already 
got a prize, a belief that I might yet 
live in this world, and yet live right in 
the sight of that God who cannot look 
upon sin with allowance. 

After living in that neighborhood 
about a week, I prepared to return 
home. The Rev. Mr. White brought 
me on my journey as far as Brunswick. 
I had some conversation with Brother 
W. which done me much good. At 
Trenton I stayed with Dr. x\rmour, and 



OF G. W. BATCHELDEll. 89 

the next morning took the cars and came 
to Burlington. On my way home, my 
mind was constant in prayer, and I felt 
as if I could exhort every man I saw, to 
engage in the pursuit of the same bless- 
ing. When I arrived home, I found 
my family well. I informed my wife 
of what had happened me while absent. 
She was glad also to know that it was 
her privilege to live a life of holiness. 
Her sister also, seemed desirous to seek 
for the blessing of a clean heart. I now 
endeavored - to double my diligence in 
giving up every thing. Nothing was 
too dear to sacrifice, if I knew that God* 
required it. I felt perfectly willing to 
give up my life, if I could not have Je- 
sus all my own without it. 1 searched 
the Scriptures more than ever, and pray- 
ed night and day. Some of my good 
friends told me to believe, but I found 
this hard work. My unbelief was great. 
Still I was certain I should get the bless- 



90 A NAltKATIVE OF THE LIFE 

ing, but the thought, "not now," still 
followed me. At length the time drew 
nigh; I could not live much longer with- 
out it. I arose from my bed in the 
night. I plead the promise "Whatso- 
ever ye ask of the Father, in my name, 
it shall be done unto you." The bur- 
den of my prayer was not for happiness, 
but for a clean heart. But the sugges- 
tion "not now," still followed me. I 
went some distance to a barn, but found 
no comfort there. 

Such were my feelings at this period, 
that I was unable to attend my business. 
I spent the fore-part of the following 
day in reading and private prayer, and 
in the after part of the day my wife and 
sister joined me in family devotion. 
At length I was enabled by faith to lay 
fast hold on the promises of God. A 
thrill of joy ran through my soul — but 
I was not satisfied that this was the bless- 
ing. For three days I believed, and then 






OF G. W. BATCUKLDEll. 91 

doubted. The contest was a severe one. 
I wanted the witness. 

While a good Brother D — , who was 
also seeking the same blessing, was 
reading the Christian's Manual, he 
came to that part which describes the 
fulness of a soul just entering into the 
rest from sin — for w T hich my soul had 
been laboring — he stopped and cast his 
eyes upon me, and said, this is your 
experience. In that moment I was bap- 
tised with the Holy Ghost, and, though 
I was at my work, sitting on my seat 
at the time, floods of joy seemed to en- 
ter my soul; but still I was afraid I 
might be deceived. I told Brother D. 
I had received some unusual blessing, I 
was so very happy. I went into the 
chamber, and begged for the witness. 
I felt like a little child, and such was 
the clearness of the witness that I re- 
ceived of the entire sanctification of my 
body, soul, and spirit to God, that the 



92 A NARRATITE or THE LIFE 

devil himself dare not dispute it with 
me. I felt both a delight and pleasure 
with the dealings of God with me. A 
glorious brightness was cast over the 
providences of God, and I had an ele- 
vated feeling of soul — a profound reve- 
rence for God that I am sure I never 
had before: mercy, purity and love 
seemed to encompass me. Though I 
still knew that I was travelling through 
a wilderness of sickness, temptations, 
and afflictions, yet I felt that I was un- 
der infallible guidance, and that I should 
be protected by a power that presided 
over the universe. Then, indeed, I 
felt that I had a shelter, a refuge, a 
hiding place, a friend, and a God. That 
disease of heart, which no human skill 
could cure, now found a remedy in the 
grace of God. 

Thus was I brought, on the 13th day 
of August, 1842, after twenty days 
deep conviction for holiness, through 



OF ft. W. BATCHELDER. 93 

the blessed atonement, to enjoy that 
perfect confidence in God which brings 
perfect peace into the soul, and also 
that love which casts out all fear that 
hath torment, and was therefore not 
only happy, but truly happy. 

I now went on in this most excellent 
way, trying, in my feeble manner, to 
do good, and I have the blessed happi- 
ness of believing that my own family 
felt the gracious influence of God's spi- 
rit, as it daily descended in answer to 
our united- prayers around the family 
altar; which was now erected three 
times a day. I now felt willing, through 
the assistance of my blessed Master, to 
take up every cross; and as I have al- 
ready informed the reader that I had at 
different times believed it to be my duty 
to preach the gospel of the Son of God; 
I still felt it to be my duty, though I 
labored under many serious disadvan- 
tages. Accordingly I made an effort to 



94 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

preach a few times before some of the 
brethren on Medford Circuit. My case 
was then brought before Brother Neal, 
the presiding elder, and the members 
of the Quarterly Conference, by Brother 
Chew, our Circuit preacher, and after 
the usual examination, the brethren 
thought proper that I should be licensed 
as a local preacher. 

The Christian reader no doubt would 
be pleased if I would describe the differ- 
ence between my present spiritual en- 
joyments and Christian attainments 
more particularly, and those that 1 en- 
joyed while in a justified state. And I 
would be glad in my very soul if 1 
could make it so plain that even a child 
could understand it. But as I have of- 
ten said, when only in a justified state, 
that it was better felt than told; so I can 
say now with quite as much propriety, 
that the blessing of holiness is better 
felt than described. But by the help of 



OF G. W. BATCHELDER. 95 

God, I will try to relate a few particu- 
lars in my own case. 

In the first place, I can truly say, 
that my love was in a wonderful man- 
ner increased for God, and for the Bi- 
ble. I had loved my Bible before; but 
now I was passionately fond of it. I 
seemed to read it, too, with new or 
better eyes, and with a clearer under- 
standing of its sacred truths. I not only 
believed the promises to be the very 
truths of God, but I was enabled now 
fully and constantly, and in a very par- 
ticular manner, to appropriate them to 
myself; they had now passed off from 
among the possibilities or probabilities, 
and were now, to me very facts; they 
were indeed yea and amen in Christ 
Jesus — my faith laid fast hold, and then 
held on to the most precious promises 
in the Bible. 

I knew and felt that God had already 
given the best gift he had to bestow, 



96 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

even his beloved son, Jesus Christ: and 
would he not freely with him, give us 
all things. To be consistent with him- 
self, he would certainly give the lesser 
gifts to those that seek them aright. 
Another particular: I now found my- 
self trusting continually and firmly in 
God for all things. Though at times 
things seemed to go against me, and the 
waves of affliction rose around me, yet 
I felt that I abode in perfect safety. 

But to be a little more plain; until 
now I never could say, for any length 
of time at least, that I had no will of 
my own, or of my own making. I 
knew not how to get rid of that burden, 
that so often weighed me down, and 
would for a time test my religious en- 
joyments. I mean such temporal afflic- 
tions as are common to poor men of 
families; who, with feeble health, and, 
oftentime, out of employment — but, 
nevertheless, having families to provide 



OF G. W. BATCIIELHE11. 97 

for — earnestly desire and strive to sup- 
port their families, and to live honestly 
and righteously with, and before all 
men. Now this was my case precisely 
for years, and I was more or less con- 
tinually in. bondage, through fear that 
I should not be able to pay to every 
man his just dues, or that my family 
would come to want. I did not possess 
my soul in patience — and who could, 
with such a load upon his heart? Such 
a load of care is unfriendly to happi- 
ness, and there is a sting in it which 
can only be extracted by the grace of 
God. But now I found, and realized, 
what I never realized to much extent 
before, that I could roll my huge bur- 
den upon the Lord. I knew it was my 
privilege long before, and I resorted to 
various methods to do so, but it was a I 
in vain. Now my Heavenly Father 
cheerfully took my burden from me the 
7 



98 A NARRATIVE OF TEE LIFE 

moment I handed it over to him, and 
and if there had been as much more, I 
could have cast it all upon the Lord, 
with the certain belief that he would 
have taken it all. I knew it would be 
no burden to my Heavenly Father. 
David says, " cast thy burden upon the 
Lord, and He will sustain thee." — Pe- 
ter says, " cast all your care upon Him, 
for he careth for thee. " And the blessed 
Saviour says, "come unto me, all ye that 
are weary and heavy laden, and I will give 
you rest." I had one solicitude now, and 
only one: a care to walk in the king's 
highway of holiness — a care which God 
himself had cast upon me, and which 
was altogether intended for my own 
happiness, and the happiness of others. 
I wish the reader to bear in mind that 
I am not now speaking merely of my 
duties or privileges, but of facts as I 
experienced them. 

My bodily afflictions still continued, 



OF G. W. BATCHELDEH. 99 

so that I worked at my trade with 
much pain, and with great debility of 
body; but I can truly say, that while I 
had sorrow flowing from afflictions, I 
had joys flowing from religion; so there 
appeared to be two streams operating at 
one and the same time. The stream of 
joy, though it did not annihilate the 
stream of sorrow that proceeded from 
severe affliction, yet it came in so much 
faster that it raised my soul above the 
waves of affliction, and I could rejoice 
in the Lord- always. Paul could say, 
" as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.'* 
I found the very same reason to rejoice 
in affliction as I found existing in pros- 
perity, for I read, i c they shall work out 
for you a far more exceeding and eter- 
nal weight of glory," and I verily be- 
lieve, that the blessing of entire sancti- 
fication will keep its possessor happy 
under the most trying circumstances in 
which he could possibly be placed. In 



100 A NARRATIVE OF THE LIFE 

this world it would make us happy 
without the aid of any thing else. Ha- 
bakkuk says, "although the fig-tree 
shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be 
in the vines; the labor of the olive shall 
fail, and the fields shall yield no meat; 
the flock shall be cut off from the fold, 
and there shall be no herd in the stalls: 
yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will 
joy in the God of my salvation." Is 
there not enough in religion to make a 
man happy? * Reader, it is the only 
thing that can make us happy ; and, if 
it can make us happy, it can keep us 
happy. 

But again; I felt a continual glow of 
gratitude to God for his mercy and 
goodness to me. Before, in the least 
blessing that I received from God, 1 
saw his kindness in such a manner as 
led me to reverence and adore Him; if 
I had possessed nothing more than a 
cup of cold water, and a crust of bread 



OF G. W. BATCHELDER. 101 

to eat, my soul would have swelled 
with gratitude to that God who num- 
bered the very hairs of my head. But 
0, how my soul rejoiced in that rich 
fulness that I found in my ever blessed 
Redeemer, to save my soul to the very 
uttermost from all sin, and to tear its 
very roots out of my heart. Dear rea- 
der, if you knew how many tears I 
had shed, and how I had longed for 
this blessed state, you would not wonder 
that my soul was filled with unspeaka- 
ble joy and gratitude to my adorable 
Jesus. Now a poor unworthy worm 
was permitted to love the King of 
Kings with all his heart, soul, mind, 
and strength; and his neighbor as 
himself, with the prospect of increasing 
in this pure love all the days of his life. 
Oh! what condescension — glory to God! 
I was no longer troubled with the fear 
of man; unholy anger and pride was 
torn away from their long residence. I 



102 A NARRATIVE, ETC. 

could no longer feel them in my heart; 
every spot was taken up and filled with 
love. I still had many temptations — 
but I can assure the reader that they 
were only temptations; and my gracious 
Master gave me grace according to his 
blessed promise to resist them all. I do 
not deem it necessary to enter into any 
further particulars here on this blessed 
subject; but I would refer the reader to 
the Appendix of this book, for a further 
understanding of this most important 
work of God on the soul. 



END OF THE NARRATIVE. 



APPENDIX 



THE D0CTRT1VE OF SANCTIFICATION 
ILLUSTRATED. 

Having a strong desire that the Doc- 
trine of Sanctification should he clearly 
and distinctly understood by those who 
are seeking for full and complete Scrip- 
tural holiness; and, as I believe the doc- 
trine of true holiness as held by the 
Founder of Methodism to be as he as- 
serts — after twenty years of much 
prayer and close study of the Scrip- 
tures, and in defence of which he wrote 
much — not only to be the privilege, but 
the duty, of every believer in Christ to 
arrive at, I think I cannot do better 
than to make quotations, and show the 



104 APPENDIX. 

reader what Mr. Wesley's views were 
on this subject. 

Mr. Wesley, in distinguishing entire 
sanetification from justification, asserts 
the former "total resignation to the 
will of God, without any mixture of 
self-will; gentleness, without any touch 
of anger, even the moment we are pro- 
voked; love to God, without the least 
love of the creature, both in and for 
God; love to man, excluding all envy, 
jealousy, and rash judging; meekness, 
keeping the whole soul inviolably calm, 
and temperance in all things." 

Again, in his sermon on the Wilder- 
ness State, he enumerates the causes of 
our losing the light of God's counte- 
nance, and includes a number of the pas- 
sions, calling them, expressly, " inward 
sins; pride is one, and it is an abomina- 
tion to the Lord; anger is another, even 
though colored with the name of zeal 
for the truth." 

Nothing is a greater enemy to the 
mild and gentle love of God, than those 
sjns which have been named; they ne- 






APPENDIX. 



105 



ver did, and never can, exist together. 
Desire is another; when fierceness and 
anger are asleep, and love alone is wak- 
ing, we may be no less endangered by 
desire — which equally tends to darken 
the soul." This is the sure effect; the 
thoughts are declared by Mr. Wesley 
to be holy in a perfect Christian; in his 
Plain Account he says: " Only of grown 
Christians it can be affirmed, that they 
are, in such a sense, perfect, as to be 
freed from evil thoughts and tempers; 
indeed, whence could they spring? out 
of the heart of man (if at all) proceeds 
evil thoughts! If, therefore, the heart 
be no longer evil, then evil thoughts 
proceed no longer out of it, for a good 
tree cannot bring forth evil fruit." 

Again, "they are in such a sense 
perfect, as to be freed from evil thoughts 
and tempers. God hath now laid the 
axe at the root of the tree, purifying 
their hearts by faith, and cleansing all 
the thoughts of their hearts by the in- 
spiration of his holy spirit." Again; 
"they are freed from evil thoughts, so 



106 



APPENDIX. 



that they cannot enter into them, no, 
not for a moment; aforetime, when an 
evil thought came in, they looked up 
and it vanished away: but now, it does 
not come in, there being no room for 
this in a heart that is full of God." 

Mr. Wesley, in the same sermon, 
says, "we are reconciled to God (that 
are justified) through the blood of the 
cross, and in that moment the corrup- 
tion of nature, which is enmity with 
God, is put under our feet; the flesh has 
no more dominion over us, but it still 
exists, and it is still in its nature enmi- 
ty with God, lusting against his spirit: 
a man may be in God's favor, though 
he feel sin, but not if he yields to it ;i 
having sin does not forfeit the favor of 
God; giving way to sin does. Though 
in the flesh you lust against the spirit, 
you may still be a child of God; but if 
you walk after the flesh, you are a 
child of the devil." In the next ser- 
mon, (on repentance in believers,) he 
says, "A conviction of their guilt is 
another branch of that justification 



APPENDIX. 



107 



which belongs to the people of God, 
(that is, the justified;) but this is to be 
understood cautiously, and in a peculiar 
sense, for it is certain there is no con- 
demnation to them who are in Christ 
Jesus, that believe in Him, and in His 
power of that faith, walk npt after the 
flesh, but after the spirit; yet they can 
no more bear the strict justice of God, 
than before they believed; this pro- 
nounces them still worthy of death, and 
it would absolutely condemn them 
thereto, were it not for the atoning 
blood; therefore they are thoroughly 
convinced that they still deserve pun- 
ishment, although it is hereby turned 
aside from them; they still deserve, 
strictly speaking, only the damnation 
of hell, but what they deserve does not 
come upon them, because they have an 
advocate with the Father." 

It may be asked, does not Mr. 
Wesley define sin to be a voluntary 
transgression of the law? And if so, 
how can we reconcile this definition 
with the above quotation? This is his 



108 APPENDIX. 

definition of sin, but he unquestionably 
means actual sin: but are voluntary and 
actual transgressions of the law sin, or 
the nature of sin? So teaches Soeinian- 
ism, so teaches the new heaven theolo- 
gy, but not so taught Wesley, as seen 
above. Nol so teaches any standard 
authority in orthodox theology. Or- 
thodox theology teaches, if we under- 
stand it, that there is an involuntary, an 
original infection of human nature. 
That it pervades not only the will, but 
the appetites and passions, so that when 
by the aid of the divine spirit, will 
would do right, still will cannot do till 
the .^petite and passions are to some 
degree purified. This is St. Paul's doc- 
trine: " for I know that in me, (that is, 
in my flesh,) dwells no good thing, for 
to will is present with me, but how to 
perform that which is good I find not;" 
that this original and involuntary infec- 
tion is of the nature of sin; it is called 
original sin and natural depravity — the 
first in reference to its being entailed, the 
second in reference to its being inherent, 






APPENDIX. 109 

and by Wesley is represented, as above, 
guilt, corruption, and enmity toward 
God. All orthodox churches agree that 
we must be cleansed before we can enter 
heaven; and that it did not exist before 
the fall, nor in Christ; that it is not 
eradicated in justification, as distin- 
guished from entire sanctification. Most 
believe that it continues until death, 
and is the occasion of constant sin in 
the believer; all believe that the excite- 
ment of the passions and appetites, tend- 
ing to unlawful indulgence, and impel- 
ling or soliciting to evil acts, arises in 
a regenerate person entirely from it. 
Wesley, in his sermon on sin inabe- 
lievers, says, herein our own church 
(as indeed in most points,) exactly co- 
pies after the primitive, declaring, in 
her ninth article, that original sin is the 
corruption of the nature of every man, 
whereby man is in his own nature in- 
clined to evil, so that no flesh lusteth 
contrary to the spirit, and this infection 
of nature doth remain; yea, in them 
that are regenerated, whereby the lust 



110 



APPENDIX. 



of flesh is not subject to the law of 
God; and, although there is no con- 
demnation for them that believe, yet 
this lust hath of itself the nature of sin. 
The same testimony is given by all the 
churches — not only by the Greek and 
Romish churches, but by all the re- 
formed churches of Europe, of what- 
ever denomination. Indeed, some of 
these seem to carry the thing too far; 
so describing the corruption of the 
heart of a believer, as scarce to allow 
that he hath dominion over it, but ra- 
ther is in bondage to it; and by this 
means they leave hardly any distinction 
between a believer and an unbeliever. 
But, blessed be God, many believe that 
it need not remain until death, but is 
extinguished in the state of Christian 
perfection, which they believe to be at- 
tainable. The first three of these pro- 
positions have been received by ortho- 
dox churches in all ages; and all of 
them are received by the followers of 
Wesley. 

The question may be asked, how 



APPENDIX. HI 

then is the perfect Christian tempted? 
The perfect Christian may feel an ex- 
citement, but no such excitement of 
the appetite and passions that is impure, 
that tends to evil acts or unlawful in- 
dulgence; solicitation to evil may be 
presented to his thoughts, but it is not 
felt in his passions; there may be ex- 
citement — intense excitement — but in- 
stead of its tending to unlawful indul- 
gence, it has precisely the opposite ten- 
dency — the horror against it, or of con- 
scious triumph over it, accordingly as 
he may contemplate at the time the sin 
is suggested, or the grace by which he 
escapes it. When we say, therefore, 
that the sanctified person is tempted in- 
tellectually, not sensitively, it is of 
course understood that we mean, by 
the latter phrase, that his sensibili- 
ties are not excited favorably toward 
the temptation. The difference be- 
tween the temptations of the sanctified 
and the justified state, may be illustrated 
thus: two Christians, one w T holly sanc- 
tified, the other not, perceives the op- 



112 APPENDIX. 

portunity of becoming wealthy, by the 
use of some improper means; the sanc- 
tified person perceives the opportunity; 
nothing but imbecility could keep him 
from the perception; but it has no ex- 
citing influence upon his passions; he 
may intellectually dwell on the circum- 
stances, and wonder at the facilities 
they afford to an evil mind, but, at the 
same time, not only feel no excitement 
to the evil, but abhor it, and exultingly 
thank God for his exemption from it. 
On the other hand, the unsanctified 
Christian may feel the cravings of ava- 
rice; he may go the whole day in sore 
conflict with these cravings, beating 
them down and yet feeling them. 

The following opinion of a distin- 
guished writer in the c Guide to Chris- 
tian Perfection/ says: "temptations, it 
will undoubtedly be conceded by those 
who have paid attention to the subject, 
are objects which are presented by the 
intellect to the sensibilities, and the will 
is of such a nature that they have a ten- 
dencv to induce or cause in those sensi- 



APPENDIX. 113 

bilities, that is to stay in the appetites, 
propensities and affections, and also in 
the will, an inordinate, excessive or per- 
verted action. The incipient, or what 
may be termed the innocent stage of 
the temptation, is when the object, 
which is the medium of temptation, is 
first presented to us intellectually; that 
is to say, in our mere thoughts or per- 
ceptions. Our Saviour was tempted by 
having the kingdoms and wealth of this 
world presented before him as objects 
of desire, but the temptation went no 
further than the thoughts; it had no ef- 
fect upon his desires or will, but was 
immediately rejected; it was necessary 
that the object of temptation should ex- 
ist intellectually; in other words, that 
it should exist in the thoughts, or be 
perceived and thought of without this, 
viz. the perceived or intellective pre- 
sence of the object. It is entirely clear 
that there could not possibly be any 
such thing as temptation; but the temp- 
tation may exist to this extent without 
sin; the temptations for instance to 
8 



114 APPENDIX. 

which our Saviour was subjected were 
entirely, in every instance, without sin, 
for the simple reason that they did not 
go beyond the thoughts; they did not 
enter into the emotions and desires; 
they excited no favorable or assenting 
feelings; they caused no accordant ac- 
tion of the will, but were instantly re- 
pelled; they were not like sparks 
thrown upon tinder and kindled to a 
blaze, but rather like sparks thrown in 
the ocean and instantly extinguished." 
Mr. Wesley, in his -'Plain Account 
of Christian Perfection/ gives us this 
detail: he says, " one commends me; 
here is a temptation to pride, but in- 
stantly my soul is humbled before God, 
and I feel no pride, of which I am as 
sure as that pride is not humility. A 
man strikes me: there is a temptation 
to anger, but my heart overflows with 
love, and I feel no anger at all; of 
which I am as sure as that love and an- 
ger are not the same." Thus it is if I 
am tempted by a present object; and 
it is just the same, if, when it is absent, 
the devil recalls a commendation, or an 



APPENDIX. H5 

injury to my mind, in the moment the 
soul repels the temptation, and remains 
filled with pure love; and the difference 
is still plainer when I compare my pre- 
sent state with my past, wherein I felt 
temptation and corruption too; but by 
allowing that temptation may exist in- 
tellectually, do we not contradict the 
quotation already made from Wesley, 
which asserts, that even the thoughts are 
holy in the sanctified state? He an- 
swers for us in his sermon on < Wander- 
ing Thoughts.' But here let it be ob- 
served, that thoughts concerning evil 
are not always evil thoughts — that a 
thought concerning sin, and a sinful 
thought are widely different. A man 
for instance may think of a murder 
which another has committed, and yet 
this is no evil or sinful thought. So 
our blessed Lord himself doubtless 
thought of or understood the thing spo- 
ken by the devil when he said, " all 
these things will I give thee, if thou 
wilt fall down and worship me:" yet 
he had no evil or sinful thought, nor 
indeed was he capable of having any; 



116 APPENDIX. 

and hence it follows, that neither have 
real Christians — for "every one that is 
perfect is as his master." Luke, 6th 
chapter, 40th verse. Therefore, if he 
was free from evil or sinful thoughts, 
so are they likewise., 

We have shown that Mr. Wesley 
does not allow evil thoughts in the sanc- 
tified state. It is here obvious that he 
means, by evil thoughts, such as reach 
the sensibilities, passions, and appetites. 
In the same discourse he states what 
wandering fhoughts are evil and what 
are not. Under the former are enu- 
merated all that spring from a reveng- 
ful temper, from pride, lust, or vanity. 
It is also all those which produce or 
feed any sinful temper; those which ei- 
ther give rise to pride or vanity — to 
anger or love of the world: hence even 
the thoughts which are occasioned by 
weakness or disease — by the natural 
mechanism of the body, or by the laws 
of vital union — however innocent they 
may be in themselves, do, nevertheless, 
become sinful when they either produce 
or cherish and increase in us any sinful 



APPENDIX. U7 

temper, such as the desire of the fleshy 
the desire of the eye, or the pride of 
life. In like manner the wandering 
thoughts which are occasioned by the 
words or actions of other men, if they 
cause or feed any wrong disposition, 
they then become sinful. And the same 
w r e may observe of those which are sug- 
gested or injected by the devil. Mr. 
Wesley shows in what sense Christians 
are not perfect; they are not free from 
ignorance, temptation nor infirmities. 
" But I mean," says Mr. Wesley, in 
his sermon on Christian Perfection, 
n not only -those which are properly 
termed bodily infirmities, but all those 
inward or outward imperfections which 
are not of a moral nature; such are 
weakness, or slowness of understanding, 
dullness, or confusedness of apprehen- 
sion, incoherency of thought, irregular 
quickness or heaviness of imagination; 
also, the want of a ready or retentive 
memory." Again: "Such in another 
kind are those which are commonly in 
some measure consequent upon these, 
namely, slowness of speech, improprie- 



118 APPENDIX. 

ty of language; u'ngracefulness of pro- 
nunciation; to which one might add a 
thousand nameless defects, either in 
conversation or behaviour; these are 
the infirmities which ajre found in the 
best of men in a larger or smaller pro- 
portion; and from these none can hope 
to be freed, until the spirit returns to 
God who gave it-?? Again, in his Plain 
Account, " but even these souls dwell 
in a shattered body, and are so pressed 
down thereby, that they cannot always 
exert themselves as they would, in 
thinking, speaking, and acting precise- 
ly aright; for want of better bodily or- 
gans, they must at times think, speak, 
or act wrong; not, indeed, through a 
defect of love, but of knowledge; and 
while this is the case, notwithstanding 
that defect and its consequences, they 
fulfil the law of love. 

I might enlarge further, but the 
smallness of the work will not admit it 
I would say, however, that there may 
be shades of difference in the outward 
appearances of this great work upon the 



APPEMUX. 119 

heart, though the work itself is just the 
same, it may be hard to judge correctly 
in so nice a point, Christians are so dif- 
ferently circumstanced and so different- 
ly constituted — some have the advan- 
tage of education and of easy circum- 
stances, their light may appear to shine 
more clearly — while in some others it 
may seem to be darkened in appear- 
ances by things not sinful but unavoid- 
able, such as lowness of spirits, and 
weak abilities, and a great press of 
temptations. But whatever outward 
changes the perfect Christian meets 
with, he will be the same man still; he 
would have the Lord to choose his 
changes for him, though it might be 
what the world would call from better 
to worse; he is away from home, and, 
like people of fortune sometimes when 
travelling, cheerfully put up with many 
inconveniences, and comfort themselves 
with the thought that it will not always 
be so; so the man of God, though if it 
were for the glory of God he would 
be content to live as long as Methusaleh, 



120 APPENDIX. 

yet he will never feel at home till he 
gets to his Father's house above. 



A SEKMON ON SANCTIFICATION. 

" Therefore, leaving the principles of the doctrine of 
Christ, let us go on unto perfection." Heb> 0, 1. 

Paul's style is parenthetical. In the 
preceding chapter he had been giving 
a luminous view of the priesthood of 
Christ, and that in the highest point of 
comparison possible — the Melchisedai- 
cal. But, as if feeling the incompe- 
tence of his hearers, he is struck off 
from his purpose in the eleventh verse 
of the fifth chapter; and through the 
remainder of that as well as of the sixth 
chapter, he follows the train of thought 
induced, and resumes his plan only in 
the beginning of the seventh chapter: 
" For this Melchisedec, king of Salem, 
priest of the most high God, who met 



ALU'S MUX. 121 

Abraham returning from the slaughter 
of the kings, and blessed him; to whom 
also Abraham gave a tenth part of all: 
first being, by interpretation, King of 
righteousness, and after that also, King 
of Salem, which is, King of peace; 
without father, without mother, with- 
out descent, having neither beginning 
of days, nor end of life; but, made like 
unto the Son of God, abideth a priest 
continually." 

Our text is intimately connected with 
the words preceding. Thus, after 
speaking of Melchisedec, the apostle 
continues: " For when for the time ye 
ought to be teachers, ye have need that 
one teach you again, which be the first 
principles of tKe oracles of God: and are 
become such as have need of milk, and 
not of strong meat. For every one that 
useth milk is unskilful in the word of 
righteousness; for he is a babe. But 
strong meat belongeth to them that are 
of full age, even to those who by rea 
son of use, have their senses exercised 
to discern both good and evil. There- 



122 APPENDIX. 

fore, leaving the principles of the doc- 
trine of Christ, let us go on unto perfec- 
tion." What may we not infer from 
this but that our people are still dull of 
hearing ? How little do they know 
compared with what they might; and 
how often is the minister of Christ 
obliged again to lay " the foundation 
from dead works and of faith towards 
God," and, consequently, to stop short 
of those riches of divine truth which lie 
scattered so plentifully on the sacred 
page! 

Nor would I have this considered an 
arrogant train of reasoning. I would 
preach it to myself also. Oh, how ma- 
ny delightful spots are there yet in the 
sacred field of divine truth, which my 
eye never saw! How many green pas- 
tures on which I never reclined! How 
many pure fountains whose bubbling 
waters I never tasted! Brethren, we 
are all guilty herein. How much more 
might we have known of God, his na- 
ture, his perfections! How much more 
experience might we have had of His 



AFI'ENDIX. 123 

grace in our hearts! How much more 
might we have known of the glories of 
His throne, and how much more fre- 
quently might we have been wrapped 
up, as it were, in the third heavens! 
"Whether in the body I cannot tell," 
&c. 

But there is another inference which 
we may derive from the text: "Leav- 
ing the first principles of the doctrine 
of Christ," let us this morning outstep 
the ordinary bounds, and " go on unto 
perfection." 

1. The object contemplated. 

2. The manner of its attainment. 

1. The object contemplated — perfec- 
tion. Much has been said and written 
on this subject, and yet is little under- 
stood by many. The primary meaning 
which the apostle applies to the term, 
is doubtless, a preparedness of our intel- 
lectual powers to take in the truths of 
God. From the character which our 
meditation has assumed, this must be 
evident. And will any one, say that 
this is not necessary to our receiving 



124 APPENDIX. 

the deep things of God? There are 
those, I know, who profess much know- 
ledge of divine truths, and yet have no 
experimental enjoyment of them. We 
see in them that there may be a clear 
apprehension of the things of God apart 
from their operation on the heart. But 
then this is not called the knowledge of 
divine things in Scripture. I have no 
idea of light separate from life; the 
word is living — spirit and life — and it 
must produce life where it is known in 
the true sense of the word. There is, 
1 admit, a great difference between the 
knowledge of a fact and the conviction 
of it; but the latter only is the saving 
knowledge — -knowledge connected with 
feeling. Let a man know that he is a 
sinner, and know it so as to feel the 
sentence of death in himself, and he 
will be quickened to cry unto God for 
mercy. Let him know the remedy in 
the Saviour of Sinners, and his know- 
ledge will not be of that vague and ge- 
neral character which regards him as 
the Saviour of men; he will have an 



APPENDIX. 125 

individual personal property in him as 
his Saviour. Thus might we trace in 
all the Christian's life the connection in- 
separable between light and life. "The 
light is the life of men." 

After this explanation, you will not 
startle at my having commenced the 
subject of perfection, with the primary 
meaning of the apostle, in reference to 
knowledge. Perfect knowledge touches 
at every point of the Christian cha- 
racter. It is connected with perfect 
love, perfect humility, perfect purity, 
&c. &c. 

But I shall not stop here. We come 
more immediately to the nature of per- 
fection. For the right understanding 
of this, we may consider it in four 
points of view. 

First. — Absolute perfection. This 
can only belong to God; for it is im- 
possible, in the nature of things, that 
this should attach to a, creature. Infi- 
nity is essential to absolute perfection. 
Whatever qualities we may discover in 
any being, however amiable and excel- 



126 ' APPENDIX. 

lent, yet, if its means are limited, no t 
absolute perfection can exist. This per- 
fection, therefore, can oaly belong to 
God, and it is strange, that men still 
use the term absolute, in connection 
with finite creatures, and thus wilfully 
stumble at what is not affirmed. 

Secondly. — We may consider it in 
the nature of beings themselves, com- 
pared with other beings. This is rela- 
tive perfection, and has reference to any 
kind of beings whatever, limited to its 
own species. Thus, we speak of a flower, 
a plant, a tree, as being perfect in its , 
kind, &c. 

But, leaving the world of inanimate 
nature, (and a thousand illustrations 
would offer therein,) we look into the 
world above. Now there exists a class 
of beings called angels, and these are 
perfect in their nature and kind; that is, 
the perfection of an angel, archangel, 
throrie, power, &c. 

But to bring all this to bear on us. 
You have heard of the perfection of 
Adam, or Adamic perfection; that was 



APPENDIX. 127 

the perfection of a being, all of whose 
powers and faculties were complete, and 
without the slightest derangement; he 
w T as perfect after his kind; and now, 
the perfection of man, in the present 
state of things, is the perfection to 
which the gospel leads him, and which 
Wesley fitly called Christian perfection. 

What the nature of this is, we must 
consider afterward; but, how much 
would have been spared from the stock 
of human passion, if this definition had 
been attended to! There is a perfec- 
tion of a Christian man after his kind. 

Thirdly. -—We may consider it again, 
as the attainment of the highest possible 
degree, after his kind. 

This differs from the former in this, 
that it leads us to stretch after the high- 
est point of perfection to which our na- 
ture is capable. If we may speculate 
in mysteries, we might say that the per- 
fection of an angel is in rising to the 
highest point of attainment of which his 
nature is capable; and, to bring this 
point to bear on ourselves, the perfec- 



128 APPENDIX. 

tion of a Christian consists in his stretch- 
ing after, and attaining to the highest 
point of which his nature, is capable. A 
child is perfect after his kind, that is, 
he has a perfection of parts, but not yet 
a perfection of degrees, and this will 
illustrate the meaning: his nature is ca- 
pable of more. 

Fourthly. — The term perfection is 
again used where there is an adaptation 
in the person or thing for the purpose 
for which it was designed. 

Many instances occur in the Scripture 
wherein the term is applied in this 
sense to our Saviour: his adaptation to 
the work on which he entered. When 
any thing answers the place for which 
it was intended, exactly fitting it, it is 
perfect. Thus, for example, we talk 
of a perfect musician; that is, one eve- 
ry way qualified for his profession; a 
perfect scholar, one fitted for that de- 
partment of science which he fills, &c. 

Now, to bring this to bear on us, 
when the man is perfectly adapted for 
every requirement of the Christian cha- 



APPENDIX* 129 

racter, when there is in him a meetness 
for every part of his calling, for time 
and eternity, there is a perfect Christian ! 

2. The manner of its attainment 

Now let us endeavor to condense all 
these ideas. We have to speak of 
Christian perfection. 

1. It must be obvious^ in the nature 
of things, that this does not mean a per- 
fection of knowledge; this is not essen- 
tial. Here we shall always " see 
through a glass darkly;" that is, in a 
reflected medium; and, therefore, not 
clearly. The outlines may be discovered, 
but there will be too much dimness to 
be correct in our View. 

What does this teach us, but that we 
should bear and forbear? " Judge no 
man before the time, until the Lord 
come, who both will bring to light the 
hidden things bf darkness, and will 
make manifest the counsels of the 
heart." Many have been mistaken 
here: they have fancied they had all 
knowledge; and, with a very high- 
sounding profession, they have exhibited 
9 



130 APrENDlX. 

the character of the cynic and the cen- 
sor; their spirit has not harmonized 
with their profession, and I have put 
such down for much less than they have 
boasted; they have pretended to discern 
spirits and detect motives; but let such 
know that "the wisdom from above (if, 
indeed, theirs is from above) is first 
pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy 
to be entreated, full of mercy and good 
fruits, without partiality and without 
hypocrisy." Oh there is a tender 
heartedness in the perfection of a Chris- 
tian removed from this! An offence 
against the rule of loving kindness is 
an offence against the Christian charac- 
ter — loving kindness is the prominent 
feature of a Christian! But this leads 
us to see, 

2d. That, though a perfection of 
knowledge is unattainable, there is a 
perfection of love! 

"Perfect love," says St. John — 
this is Christian perfection, when love 
stands out visibly, and draws every 
other power into exercise under its 
presiding influence. 



APPENDIX. 131 

This is the perfection of God — "God 
is love;" and every other attribute of 
His — whether holiness, justice, good- 
nessj truth, &c. — is but a modification 
of this essential principle — the exist- 
ence of this love in a certain mode! 

This, then, must be my perfection. 
Love must be prominent ; it must draw 
out the memory — the judgment — touch 
the spring of action, &c. Oh, what a 
heaven is this! when love dwells in the 
heart, looks out at the eye, beams in 
the face, breathes from the lips, distils 
from the hands, moves in the feet* and 
creates an atmosphere all around which 
angels might delight to inhale! " He 
that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, 
and God in him. And hereby we know 
that he abideth in us, by the spirit 
which he hath given us." 

3d. The highest possible point of at- 
tainment in Christian perfection is, 
"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God 
with all thy heart, and mind, and 
soul* and strength, and thy neighbor as 
thyself." Without a metaphysical de- 



132 APPENDIX. 

finition of terms, our Lord means that 
"we should love with the whole man." 
Here, then, behold the perfection in 
kind: "Love him with thy heart;" 
and in degree: "with all thy heart." 
St. John says, that " perfect love cast- 
eth out fear." Such a thing, therefore, 
must exist, or how did he know? 

Oh if this principle, thus carried out 
in its fullest extent, had full operation 
in my heart! Oh, how should I preach, 
and act. and think? Oh, where do the 
Christians live? Had it operation in 
yours, then might it be said of you, 
" See how these Christians love!" Oh, 
how it would 

" Burn up the dross of base desires, 
And make the mountains flow." 



Oh how it would destroy all evil sur- 
misings, all uncharitableness, &c. Lord 
purify us to thyself! Sublimate our 
affections! 

Now this is what we call holiness — 
which I would define as the perfect har- 
mony of every part of the Christian 



APPENDIX. 133 

character. The holiness of God is the 
harmony of all his attributes, the unity 
of all his perfections — love being the 
common centre. The holiness of a 
Christian is the harmony of the whole 
man with the abounding principle of 
love; all his thoughts and actions 
evolve from the centre — are held in re- 
straint thereby — and all feel the power 
of its mighty rule! Love is all! 

4th. But in our definition of perfec- 
tion there is another idea we have to 
glance at, and we can only touch it; 
this is the adaptation now of such a man 
for the sphere for which God designed 
him. Oh, how he steps out into life! 
See him! serving God and his genera- 
tion! His is not a principle of life 
merely, but life in full vigor. A child 
can talk, and a paralytic can crawl, but 
the perfect man opens his mouth with 
wisdom; the law of loving kindness is 
on his lips; he is eyes to the blind and 
feet to the lame; he mounts up to hea- 
ven as on wings; he runs without wea- 
riness: he is a vessel unto honor: he is 



134 APPENDIX. 

fitted by the Master's hand! Oh, what 
a state is this! 

"Now the God of peace, which 
brought again from the dead our Lord 
Jesus Christ, that great Shepherd of the 
sheep, through the blood of the ever- 
lasting covenant, make you perfect to 
do his will;" there is the point! — and 
then his will is done on earth as in hea 
ven ! Summerfield. 






THE NEW BIRTH. 



Suffer me, dear fellow traveller to the 
bar of Almighty God, to ask you if you 
are yet in your sins? if you are, let me 
beseech you to remember the words of 
our blessed Saviour to Nicodemus " ex- 
cept a man be born again, he cannot 
see the kingdom of Heaven." Look 
into your Bible, and you may find it in 









\iTi:\ni\. 1 ;JT> 

the third chapter of John's Gospel. 
There it is, as with the finger of God 
pointing to it, and with two seals. Ve- 
rily, verily, I say unto thee, it is at thy 
peril, man, whoever thou art, if thou 
turn away, and wilt not hearken to the 
word of God. Remember, remcm- 
her, that the terms of thy salvation are 
iixed, and cannot be altered. "With- 
out holiness no man shall see the Lord." 
For God's sake, and for your soul's sake, 
let me beg of you to take care, lest your 
ease become desperate, that, by perse- 
verance in your sins and unbelief, you 
out oil' all possibility of retreat to God 
for mercy. If you die in your sins, 
you will have eternity to reflect on the 
sad choice you have made. Surely you 
will not say, that it is beneath the dig- 
nity of a man to fear, where there is 
just cause to fear, especially where the 
soul's happiness is at stake. Of the 
truth of religion how can you doubt? 
If you reject the evidence of the Scrip- 
tures, it must be because you will not 
admit its doctrines; and, if this is the 



136 APPENDIX. 

case, you would not believe though one 
arose from the dead. Do not say, as 
many have said, that you can do what- 
ever is right or fit to be done, in and of 
yourself, or from the dictates of reason. 
So far from this beirjg the case, the ex- 
perience of every man teaches him, that 
although he tries ever so much, in his 
natural $tate, to do good, yet he violates 
laws he knows he ought to keep. 

AH right and holy affections and pure 
actions are ascribed in the Scriptures to « 
the direct operation of the Spirit of God 
upon the heart; and every good man's 
experience accords precisely w T it|i this 
statement. The conversion of the heart 
is from God, and it consists not merely 
in the forgiveness of sins, but in the 
changing of the heart, regulating the de- 
sires, and the return of our affections to 
the best and wisest of beings. The 
death of Christ was not only to deliver 
man from under the wrath of God, but 
to render sin hateful to him, and to tear 
its roots out of his soul. There is a 
disease at heart which no human skill 



APPENDIX. 137 

can cure. Now, supposing it were pos- 
sible that a man's sins could be pardon- 
ed, and his heart remain still in its un- 
changed state, his soul would still be a 
prey to spiritual death, and though the 
gates of hell should be shut against him, 
he would be unhappy, and that for the 
best of reasons, he could not love that 
God who was so kind as to forgive his 
sins, and the whole bent of his mind 
would still be to do evil, and that con- 
tinually. Let but God have the heart, 
and it is certain that all our actions and 
words would be of that pure and virtu- 
ous kind, that heaven itself would be 
pleased with, for the stream will ever 
be of the nature of its fountain. Thus 
Christ blesses and saves, by subduing 
every vile affection, and turning men 
away from their sins ; for this purpose 
Christ died to destroy the works of the 
Devil; and that heaven might receive 
with eternal joys millions of precious 
souls from the very jaws of hell : now 
this is indeed and of a truth — the sal- 
vation of Christ ; the guilty are par- 



138 APPENDIX. 

doned ; the polluted cleansed ; the err- 
ing soul .restored, and the moral disease 
of his heart healed. 

I trust, my friends, you understand 
me, for this is the foundation and su- 
perstructure of all human happiness. 
Man was made for God, and none but 
God can make him happy; there are 
many objections made against the ope- 
rations of the spirit of God upon the 
heart, and one of them is the want of 
fruits in some who profess that they 
have the spirit of Christ ; but the Bible 
never taught that such have the spirit 
of Christ — the Gospel is a stranger to 
such a doctrine ; if taught at all, it must 
be in some other school than that of 
Christ. The Scriptures give us a plain 
rule to judge by ; the Apostle James, 
speaks of two kinds of wisdom, one is 
from above, and is first pure, then 
peaceable, gentle, and easy to be en- 
treated ; full of mercy and good fruits, 
without partiality and without hypoc- 
risy; the other is from beneath; its 
fruits are envying, strife, confusion, and 



APPENDIX. 139 

every evil work — it is earthly, sensual, 
and devilish. What a difference there 
is, you may easily see, between confu- 
sion and peace, strife and gentleness ; 
every good work and every evil work. 
How the new birth is performed no 
one can tell but him that does it, but 
the effects produced by it every man 
may see. The wind you can feel, and 
see its effects, but cannot tell from 
whence it cometh, nor whither it goeth, 
so is every one that is born of God. 
How the spirit cometh or how it goeth 
you cannot tell. Let us spend another 
moment, to show that those who have 
experienced this change of heart know 
it. I have been surprised at hearing 
some say, that a man might have the 
religion of the Bible and not know it. 
Let us examine this. What is the re- 
ligion of the Bible ? it is the same as 
that of heaven — it is love, love to God, 
and love to all men. Now, let this love 
be triumphant in the human heart, and 
what would follow? Why that God 
would be the object of our continual 



14<0 APPENDIX. 

imitation ; now if this would be the 
case, and how can any man deny it, 
would it nqt be a matter of knowledge 
to the Disciple of its author ? I would 
ask him, that really loves his compa 
nion, his children, his friends, and his 
country, whether he can, at the same 
time that he (Joes so love them, doubt 
the sincerity of his affections ? Now, 
if there can be a certainty here, with 
regard to our fellows, is it not consist- 
ent that a man should know that he 
loves his God, when his affections are 
centered in him. The Scriptures say 
"that to those that believe, Christ is 
precious." Shall it not then be a sub- 
ject of certainty? Thank God it is. 
Again, those that love God act con- 
sistently toward him ; they study to 
please him, because they love him, they 
think of him, they draw all their com- 
fort and support from him, it is the de- 
light of their souls to obey him ; they 
do Hot render a cold reluctant obedience 
to God — it is a cheerful, voluntary obe- 
dience to the kindest and best of friends. 



jirrtxuix. 141 

Neither is it a matter of indifference to 
them, when the cause of God languish- 
es, and when his name is profaned; 
and this happy state of things is not 
produced through terror or a fear of 
punishment — it is the spirit of God that 
has penetrated the soul, changed the 
man, and produced a willing love in 
his heart to that being whom before he 
could not love. 0, if this pure love of 
heaven filled the hearts of all men, and 
continued to do so, you might at once 
bid farewell to all hard sayings, unkind 
and dishonest dealings, and to all pen- 
alties, bolts, and bars, and prisons, for 
if this love truly reigned in the hearts 
of men, there would be no willing in- 
jury, this earth would be a type of 
heaven. 

I have now, friends, endeavored to 
show you what that religion is -that 
comes down from heaven; suffer me, 
still further to persuade you to embrace 
this religion, and we shall exhort you, 
in view of present happiness, to turn 
to God ; experience and the word of 



142 APPENDIX. 

God authorizes us to do so, for if peace 
and tranquility of mind here, and a 
glorious prospect of heaven hereafter, 
with a certain conviction that all things 
are working together for the eternal 
good of the righteous — if these are in- 
gredients in human happiness, and 
who will say they are not, these are 
certainly to be had by a religious life. 
Now, this so little depends on outward 
circumstances, that the rich, the poor, 
the learned, the unlearned, the King, 
and his subjects, may all have it alike. 
* Thus, Job, in his prosperity, possessed 
this peace and tranquility of soul, and 
when he was cast into the furnace of 
affliction, stripped of all his riches, and 
suffered the loss of all his children, he 
said, " I know that my Redeemer liveth, 
and though he slay me, yet will I trust 
in him." It is true, religion does not 
promise its possessor earthly rewards, 
such as this world's riches, or the 
honor and the admiration of this world. 
If it did, religion would be a different 
thing from what it now is ; its very na- 



APPENDIX. 143 

ture would be changed ; it would then 
be earthly, sensual, and instead of our 
Saviour saying, " My kingdom is not 
of this world," he would have said, 
my kingdom is of this world, and his 
followers would be more loth to die, 
than even his enemies would be. The 
way religion now stands, it teaches its 
possessor to look forward, with the 
feelings of an exile, who, amidst vari- 
ous comforts, still thinks of his home, 
his family, and his native country, so 
with the Christian, although he may 
have many comforts here, still his heart 
clings around Canaan's peaceful shore, 
he feels that he is a stranger and a pil- 
grim, his home is over Jordan. 



144 APPENDIX. 



PEkSEVEftE AND YOU WILL SUCCEEI). 

I trust by this time, my converted 
friend, you have begun to reflect, and 
that you are persuaded Irk your owii 
mind that all is not right in your heart. 
It may be that up to this time, you have 
nevei* asked yourself the question, what 
is religion? land now that your mind is 
somewhat awake to this subject, you 
are ready to say is there hope for such 
a one as me, if so, tell me. If this be 
your state I will tell you of something 
that may comfort your heart. that 
God may make it a blessing to your 
soul! 

I suppose you are now sick at he^rtj 
and desire to be freed from the bondage 
pf sin, and to have your heart changed 
by the grace of God. 

If your desire was fixed upon the at- 
tainment of some temporal good* it 



APPENDIX. 145 

might be denied out of mercy to your 
soul, but now that you desire the true 
riches, if you ask in faith, the desire of 
your heart will be granted. 

God to show his willingness to save 
sinners, hath spoken by the mouth of 
his prophet, saying: "As I live, saith 
the Lord, I have no pleasure in the 
death of the w T icked, but that the wick- 
ed turn and live, turn ye! turn ye, for 
why will 3^e die?" 

From the text just quoted, and many 
similar texts, that will occur, to your 
own mind, you are doubtless satisfied 
of the willingness of God to save sin- 
ners, if they comply with the require- 
ments of the gospel. 

The steps that must be taken in order 
to obtain salvation, I w r ill endeavor to 
point out to you. In the first place, 
there must be a firm resolution, a fixed 
purpose, that having once commenced 
seeking the salvation of your soul, never 
to turn back again to the beggarly ele- 
ments of the world. If there be but a 
half resolution, or if you are wavering 
10 



146 APPENDIX. 

\n your purpose, there is but little hope 
of your succeeding, the principle upon 
which you must act, is this, you must 
resolve to relinquish every thing that 
would hinder your seeking God. You 
will have no difficulty in ascertaining 
how far this principle must be carried. 
Our divine teacher tells us, if any man 
love father or mother, more than me, 
he is not worthy of me. Again, if thy 
hand offend thee cut it off and cast it 
from thee, or thine eye, pluck it out. 
But it extends farther still, even to the 
parting with our lives. " Whosoever 
will save his life shall lose it," &c. Now 
we understand our Saviour's words to 
mean, that we must be willing to un- 
dergo any amount of privation or suffer- 
ing, rather than to sin against him, al- 
though we are not to rush heedlessly 
into danger, yet we are not to omit any 
duty to avoid it, let it come from what 
quarter it may. It may be you will not 
have any opposition but what is common 
to seekers of religion, but be assured of 
this one thing, there is not a natural 



APPENDIX. 147 

fear lurking in thy heart, not a passion, 
no weakness, nor vanity within thy 
soul, but what the devil and the ene- 
mies of Christ know how to lay hold of, 
and how to make use of it to your dis- 
advantage. And no doubt they will do 
it in a greater or less degree, that they 
may hinder you from becoming truly 
pious. 

It will be of great service to you to 
ascertain the weaknesses of your own 
mind, and your besetting sin, which, if 
you are not upon your guard, may de- 
liver you up as a prey to those who lay 
in wait to destroy you. 

It is one step toward our success, to 
see the dangers we are exposed to, that 
having obtained a knowledge of our 
weak places, we may guard against any 
surprise. 

You will remember that temptations 
are common to all that start for heaven. 
The servant is not above his master. 
You may read of the temptations of 
Christ, and you would do well to re- 
member the promise: that you shall not 



148 APPENDIX. 

be tempted above what you are able to 
bear, and that in every temptation God 
will make a way for you to escape. 

You have seen, in my own expe- 
rience, that one of the greatest hin- 
drances with w r hich I met in seeking re- 
ligion was the fear of man, or a fear of 
being despised by those who set little or 
no value on a religious or pious life. 

The ruling passion of my heart was 
the pride of this world. This was my 
besetting sin. Your case may be diffe- 
rent, yet if you examine carefully you 
may find some particular weakness 
which you would do well to guard 
against. Some men are naturally of a 
quick and hasty temper, and are easily 
overcome. Others are possessed with a 
great degree of levity, which, if not 
guarded against, would very seriously 
operate against their soul's salvation. 

We shall now refer again to your re- 
solution; it must be made in the strength 
of God, and understandingly, that is, 
upon the ground of reason. It supposes 
that you have carefully examined your 



AIT»ND1X. 149 

heart, your life, your duty to God, to 
man, and to yourself, and that you have 
counted the cost. Now this is starting 
fair, and if you persevere you will suc- 
ceed. You now feel that you are a sin- 
ner. And I trust a broken hearted sin- 
ner, and that you are now waiting to 
hear what further I may say to you up- 
on a subject that concerns you more than 
any other. 

You must now avail yourself of all 
helps or means of grace, that God has 
provided for the salvation of your soul. 
And one of the most important of these, 
is prayer. Although you may repent 
of your sins without prayer, and faith 
in Christ, you cannot be saved. But 
could you wish to have religion on 
easier terms than asking for it? 

But how shall you ask? Many ask 
and do not receive; the reason why they 
do not receive is because they do not 
ask aright. Let us take care that we 
fall not into the error, which many fall 
into, who think they pray while they 
only say prayers. 



150 APPENDIX. 

Although they ask for what is right, 
it is only in word, they do not feel their 
need of the things for which they ask, 
they pray from mere duty, or from 
some other motive known to themselves 
and to God. Verily they have their 
reward, but it is such as the world gives. 
It is to be feared that there are thou- 
sands who only say their prayers. 

There must be a corresponding de- 
sire in your heart to your prayer, or 
God will not hear it. It would be 
strange if he answered your words if 
they were contrary to the desire of 
your heart; God is consistent, and so 
you must be. 

But the desire to be saved from all 
sin must not only correspond with your 
prayers, but it must be intense and pa- 
ramount to every other desire. You 
may see successful prayer recorded in 
the sacred Scriptures to have been of 
this kind. Jacob evinced such a desire; 
also the woman of Canaan, the jailor, 
and many others. 

Again, you must persevere in prayer, 



APPENDIX. 151 

you must continue to ask, as a little 
girl once said, and it will come; — you 
shall have it. 

It will not do to send your petition 
up to heaven, and go away and forget 
it. Although you cannot be all the 
time upon }^our knees, you may raise 
your thoughts to heaven, that your 
prayer may be answered while you are 
at work. 

Our Saviour says that the children of 
this world are wiser in their generation 
than the children of light. 

We have seen men get up a petition 
for some special purpose, and send it to 
Congress. How careful they were to 
have it properly drawn up, and then to 
put it into proper hands, and, having 
done all they could, how anxiously they 
wait to know the result. 

You must put your petition in the 
hands of Christ, and do not rest until it 
is answered. You must, like Jacob, 
determine never to give up until you 
obtain your desire. The woman of 
Canaan was not answered at her first 



152 APPENDIX. 

request — the Saviour did not seem to 
notice her; but she would not be re- 
pulsed, and at last obtained her request. 

You must not only persevere in ask- 
ing, but you must also ask in faith. 
Now faith is the gift of God, and you 
must ask God for it. 

Faith and perseverance are two im- 
portant things in prayer; faith lays hold 
of the promises of God, perseverance 
holds on. 

Labor, therefore, to believe with all 
your heart. But all this must be done 
in and through the blessed Saviour, for 
there is no other name whereby we 
can be saved. 

Cast yourself as a poor helpless child 
on the mercy of your Heavenly Father, 
pleading the merits of Christ, and his 
atoning blood. 

Be careful to attend the administra- 
tion of God's word, and all other means 
of grace, as often as possible. And I 
am persuaded that if you will attend se- 
riously to what has been saW, you will 
find your way to happiness and heaven. 



APPENDIX. 153 

Now, my dear friends, I can go no fur- 
ther with my message. What good you 
may derive from the perusal of it, I can- 
not say. The hand that pens these 
lines will soon be in the cold and silent 
tomb. And if this work should be the 
means, in the hand of God, of saving 
one soul, then its value, notwithstand- 
ing its many imperfections, would be 
greater than the brightest crown that 
monarchs ever wore. 

Olx that God, who knows the motives 
and the sincerity of my heart in send- 
ing this little work among my fellow 
creatures, would bless my poor endea- 
vors, and prosper it to the winning of 
many souls from the evil of their ways, 
and bring them to everlasting joys. 
Which favor 1 most humbly ask in the 
name of Jesus, the ever blessed Saviour, 
to whom, with the Father and ever 
blessed spirit, be all praise, honor, and 
dominion, now and for ever more, amen 
and amen. 



154 APPENDIX. 



THE CHURCH OF CHRIST. 

The Church of Christ, though de- 
spised and rejected by vast multitudes of 
intelligent beings, is the most interest- 
ing and important institution in the 
world. In its visible character, that is, 
as it appears to mankind, it embraces 
all those who profess the religion of Je- 
sus Christ, but, in the eyes of that God 
who searches the heart, it embraces on- 
ly those who really love God, and are 
the true followers of Christ. It is the 
kingdom of Christ moving forward un- 
der his own direction. This church 
began to be formed just after the fall; it 
was found in the family of Seth; it then 
had no written word; the way of salva- 
tion was made known by word of 
mouth. At the time of the flood, there 
were but eight souls found composing 
this church. The flood came and hur- 



APPENDIX. 155 

ried the wicked into everlasting ruin; 
and, after Noah's removal from the 
earth, his descendants departed from 
God, until the very existence of the 
church seemed to be brought to a termi- 
nation, but, thank God! Abraham now 
became one of its strongest pillars. To 
him God renewed his covenant, and, as 
a seal, commanded him and all his house 
to be circumcised; Isaac and Jacob re- 
ceived the like blessing. The church 
continued among their descendants, and 
in the days of Moses a written law was 
given to it. Now that light which was 
till now but .faint, began to brighten up. 
The day began to dawn. The church 
had all along been in its infancy, but 
was now rising to childhood. 

The ceremonial law pointed to the 
great provision which had been made 
for the salvation of all men, and which 
would be clearly revealed at the proper 
time. As years passed away, the church 
though few in number, and much afflict- 
ed, yet having Christ for its head, sal- 
vation for its crown, and eternal glory 



156 APPENDIX. 

in view, withstood the storms and per- 
secutions of surrounding nations; all 
the time foretelling the death and suffer- 
ings of Christ, and shadowing forth that 
grand system of grace which is now un- 
folded in the New Testament. 

In the fulness of time, Christ, the 
great Head of the church came into the 
world, and, by this glorious event, a 
new dispensation was introduced, the 
old one having answered all the pur- 
pose for which it was intended, was 
now to pass away forever; the middle 
wall of partition between the Jews and 
Gentiles was broken down. The church 
now started afresh in its glorious march. 
The Gospel was to be preached to all 
men, both Jews and Gentiles. Thus 
the church went onward, and in a few 
days after the resurrection of the bless- 
ed Saviour we hear of one hundred and 
twenty, then of five thousand, being 
added to it, and then increasing more 
and more, till, in almost every city, a 
large body of Christians might be found, 
and, though, since that time, great and 



APPENDIX. 157 

powerful efforts have been made to de- 
stroy the Church of Christ, many of its 
members have been put to death and 
suffered the most cruel tortures; still its 
march is onward — it is founded on a 
rock, and the gates of hell shall not pre- 
vail against it. It shall increase in 
great splendor and true glory, till its 
members shall mingle before the throne 
of God and sing the song of redeeming 
love. 

How cheering it is to the heart of a 
Christian to know that notwithstanding 
the many differences and various creeds 
and forms of church government among 
the disciples of Christ, that there is one 
great Master Builder, who is guiding 
that vast moral engine, which is at work 
for the salvation of the world. The 
Baptist, Presbyterian, Methodist and 
others, may not agree in matters of 
church order, or in church discipline, 
yet if they are real Christians, they are 
all united to the same blessed Saviour — 
the Cross of Christ and the grace of 
God is their common property — the 



158 APPENDIX. 

grand subject of their preaching is Christ 
and him crucified, and the comfort and 
joy of their hearts is the same pure love 
of God! Blessed be God; in this re- 
spect they have but one language; united 
to Christ, we are united to one ano- 
ther- The language of the Christian 
ought to be, if thy heart be right with 
God, brother, give me thy hand. 
Would to God there was more union 
and fellowship among professing Chris- 
tians, but he is not a Christian in the 
eye of God who is only one outwardly. 
Oh! could the history of God's church 
be written and published by the hand 
of Jesus, how small would it appear to 
what it now does; how many of the 
high-minded professors and learned 
clergy would find their names and them- 
selves too, excluded from the book of 
life, while many of the poor and de- 
spised followers of the Redeemer would 
find their names at the head of the re- 
gister. But, thank God, though there 
are many who pretend to be what they 
are not, Christ has a little flock to whom 



APPENDIX. 159 

he says "fear not," and while the 
name of Methodist, Presbyterian and 
Baptist, and towns and kingdoms shall 
pass away, the church of Christ shall 
abide forever, having Zion's King for 
its head, guided by the Holy Ghost, 
protected by an Almighty power, 
though it has and will yet have its 
trials, it shall stand when the world 
shall fall. 



BEHOLD HOW SHE LOVED HIM. 

Very early in the morning, before it 
was yet light, two pious women might 
have been seen leaving their lonely cot- 
tage, and no doubt their sleepless pil- 
lows, for we might suppose they had 
been watching for the day, and talking of 
their departed friend, the ever-blessed 
Redeemer, But now we see the two 



160 



APPENDIX. 



Marys bending their way onward, la- 
den with spices, toward the tomb of 
their beloved, in order to embalm his 
body. 

See them hasting onward, weeping 
as they go. Their hopes and their 
comforts seem to have been shrouded 
in that silent tomb. But it occurred to 
their minds that the stone which had 
been rolled to the mouth of the sepul- 
chre by the two disciples of Jesus was 
large and heavy. 

Oh, who shall roll away the stone? 
our strength is small! Now, with a 
sorrowful heart and weeping eyes they 
go on. At length they reach the sacred 
spot — an angel from heaven had rolled 
the stone away, and was now setting 
upon it. They approach the sepulchre, 
but behold their Lord is not there! 
Poor Mary Magdalene! her heart was 
now ready to burst with grief. She 
goes and tells Peter and John and re- 
turns with them to the sepulchre. Pe- 
ter and John went into the sepulchre, 
and saw the linen cloths lying there, 



API'ENDIX. 161 

but the body of Jesus was not there. 
They leave and return to their homes 
— but not so with Mary. She stayed 
behind. She can not, and will not, 
leave the sacred spot: she stood weep- 
ing, stooping down, and looking into 
the sepulchre. Ah, Mary you once 
wept at his feet — now you stand with- 
out the sepulchre weeping; and, as you 
weep, you keep looking in where your 
Lord had been laid, as though you 
thought your eyes might deceive you; 
certainly he must be there. 

When Jesus stood at the grave of^ 
Lazarus weeping, the Jews said, " B< _.. 
hold how he loves him!" And m a y 
we not now say, behold how M dr y 
loves him? There she stood wee 1 pmz 
— the others did not. To the ■ j-rave 
she came before the disciples, and, ^hen 
she found not her Saviour,; fa t r^es to 
tell them — returns — andr oT ., e aro S o 
disciples are gone, she .<continn, J § h th ^ 
silent tomb. ad at the 

At length, as if out of comr 
angel speaks, "Woman, \ V y < Jass *on, a n 
11 k f deepest 



162 APPENDIX. 

thou?" She answered, "because they 
have taken away my Lord, and I know 
not where they have taken him." Here 
was the cause of Mary's tears. The 
angel told Mary to fear not; her Lord 
was risen from the dead, and she should 
yet see him; but Mary would not be 
comforted. She heard a voice saying, 
" Woman, why weepest thou; whom 
seekest thou?" She turned around, 
and saw a person whom she supposed 
to be the gardener. Mary answered, 
" Sir, if thou hast borne him hence, tell 
me where thou hast borne him, and I 
will take him away." Mark, "and I 
will take him away." How was this 
possible? Sure she forgot a woman's 
weakness. Not only the body of her 
Lord would she carry, but one hundred 
pounds of spices and other odors, with 
w ^iT +u !■ W lc ty °f Christ had been em- 
' i Bu^ what will not love do? 
baltfied. ^- g p Ure j oye f Qr j ier g e _ 

Actuated d dar ^ ness f the morning, 
deemer, ™ soldiers that watch at 

tne sepulchre, could not affright her 

away. 



APl'EyiUX. 163 

Now she says, "Tell me, sir garden- 
er, or whoever you are, where you have 
borne him, and I will go and carry him 
away." She mentions no name. "It 
is him whom I love; surely thou canst 
not be ignorant of whom I mean; it is 
him, and only him, the fairest among 
ten thousand, and the one altogether 
lovely: tell me, if thou knowest where 
he is." Again Jesus speaks — for he 
whom Mary had taken for the gardener 
was none other than Jesus himself, who 
was risen from the dead. He says but 
one word, that is "Mary!" Oh! who 
can describe the effects of that one word! 
She had often heard that voice before 
pronounce the word Mary — it was so 
familiar she could not be mistaken. It 
now acted like a cordial to her sorrow- 
ful heart — it breathed a hallowed Sweet- 
ness through her soul; she knew it was 
her Jesus; and now happy Mary was 
ready to fly in his arms or fall at his 
feet, but Jesus forbid her; "Mary don't 
you touch me. I have not ascended 
yet to my God and your God, to my 



164 APPENDIX. 

Father and your Father: but run and 
tell Peter." 

Away she goes with a glad heart and 
a quick step, and finds Peter. " Peter 
the Lord is risen; I have seen him, and 
you shall see him too." Then the dis- 
ciples were filled with gladness; and 
when they had assembled together, Je- 
sus appears in the midst and says, 
"Peace be unto you." 

Oh that our desires might be directed, 
like Mary's, to one point, even to Je- 
sus, who arose and went to heaven, and 
now is seated at the right hand of God, 
interceding for us. Heaven can behold 
nothing on earth so lovely as a perfect 
Christian. Though perhaps he may be 
confined to a cottage, and is but little 
known, and as little esteemed among 
mankind, yet he is the beloved of God 
— the charge of angels — and preparing 
for everlasting glory. Reader! may 
you be of one of those happy souls. 



APPEXDIX. 165 



THE DEATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS AND 
THE WICKED CONTRASTED. 

In yonder room there might be seen 
two persons lying on the bed of death. 
The character of one, up to the hour of 
mortal struggle with the king of terrors, 
has been one of sensual delights ; his 
heart has all along been the abode of 
selfishness and those sinful passions that 
render a man wretched. He has con- 
victions, it is true, but they are those 
that make him tremble; his soul is filled 
with horror; he has no hope of victory 
through the cross of Christ; his affec- 
tions are not in heaven, but they have 
been fastened on earth; there is nothing 
before him now but death in all its 
dreadful forms — death temporal, death 
spiritual, death eternal — not one ray of 
hope is before him. His condition is 
one of ruin, entire ruin, and utter de- 



!,..; 



irr» n in \ 



struotion; indeed, the mind of mtn 

cannot riMuvivc lus awful condition. 
lie tears lo take (ho .1 \\ till plunge 
ho shrinks hark ho raises llio hitter 

Cr.iN er \ il is too late! llo turns 

ark his dimniflg BJ 31, he sinks to rise 
no moro. 

Near his side \ o\\ may hrhold tin* 
man of God| w ith :» hea\ only ronnte- 
ii.unv, aiul w itli a ^hhl ami hnllianl 
perlalion, ami with an rlovatod assnr 
illCO Of hrayen; ho draws near to the 

told stream of death * ith smiles, l s«r 
him staml at tho water\s odge< " Oh, 

(loath, to mo thou has! no ihv.nl I am 
not afraid to dm'" Tho yril wliirh 
has so long hid his rich reward t'rom 
his r now ahont to bo withdrav 

llo hrholds his Sa\ lour o\\ tho Ot 
shore. H|y, he conies o\ er on rarlh's 
dark side, and hears him to thr pror. 
od land. With theSQ n m\\ 9 he w el 
comos death, and breathes out hi 
litfh. 

Ihit hark' I hear a slmnt in tho ramp 
o( heayen the hea\ enl\ arches nn ; 



V I'l'l \ III \ . I I) ] 

all heaven welcomes the disembodied 
soul — and heaven resounds with u ninir 
ye bhssrii/" A little while ago he lay 

totted to and fro on die lxil of death, 

while friends and relations stood weep- 
ing and bidding him | last farewell. 
Bill now he lias joined in the general 
shout, and sings the song of redeeming 
love, where sickness and sorrow never 
come, where parting will he no more. 

Thill they both die; hoth are carried 
to the same grave yard. Over one 
friends weep and mourn like those thai 
have no hope. Over the other angels 
strike their harps afresh. On the sleep- 
ing dust of that righteous one the eye 
of (lod is fixed. No matter if his rest- 
ing place, instead of a bed of down, 
should he a hed of gravel ; his repose 
deep and undisturhed, his sorrowful 
bosom heaves no mure, his tears are for- 
ever dried up ; while his sonl is in 
glory , how quiet his body restfl in the 
arms of its mother dust! the vein <>| 
thunder cannot awaken him. The 
stormy winds and the furv of the hur- 



168 APPENDIX. 

ricane shall pass over his grave un- 
heeded; yea, even the giant arm of the 
earthquake shall not be able to disturb 
the chambers of death. 

But my thoughts carry me one step 
further. Let us suppose the time is 
now come when the affairs of all men 
shall be wound up — when the earth's 
history shall come to a close — and when 
the church of Christ shall appear to all 
men as it now appears in the sight of 
that God who searches the heart. Be- 
hold the Judge descending — but oh! 
how unlike the man that groaned on 
Calvary,- — yet it is he, that man of sor- 
rows! But now he comes in grandeur 
terrible. What a contrast! How dif- 
ferent from his first coming — then as a 
babe in all humility, now as the king of 
glory and the terror of the whole world; 
then a few shepherds told of his advent, 
now he comes with a mighty train, with 
all his holy angels and ten thousands of 
his saints; then as a lamb, now as the 
lion of the tribe of Judah; then he was 
judged by one man, now he is judge of 



APPENDIX. 169 

all the earth; then he was crowned 
with thorns, now he comes to crown 
the saints with crowns of glory. 

A voice is heard loud and shrill — it 
reaches the deepest grave, " Arise, ye 
dead, and come to judgment." Ima- 
gine, dear reader, the wonders of that 
day. The voice of the Son of God will 
shake the world, rend the rocks, break 
the mountains, burst the iron gates of 
hell, and unite all spirits to their own 
bodies. Yea, this is the day, not only 
of judgment, but of a general resurrec- 
tion; the graves and fields, and plains 
and seas shall burst open, and the dead 
shall arise and stand on their feet, and 
all nations shall be gathered before the 
Judge. But they are divided; the 
saints are on the right hand of the 
Judge, while the wicked are on the left. 
Now I see among that glorious compa- 
ny on the right, that blessed saint whose 
death we have been contemplating. 
What joys he has, is past my telling. 
Oh! the welcome that Christ gives him. 
" Come ye blessed of my Father;" eve- 



170 APPENDIX. 

ry word here is full of comfort; " inhe- 
rit the kingdom ;" here is your Father's 
house — a house not made with hands, 
eternal in the heavens. But on the left 
I behold that unhappy one whose end 
we have seen in yonder room. The 
awful sentence is pronounced: "depart 
from me ye workers of iniquity into 
everlasting fire." No tongue can tell 
the horrors of that soul ; the shrieks and 
horrid cries: oh! the waitings and 
wringing of hands — but I shall follow 
him no farther; he falls into the bottom- 
less pit, with all others who have 
slighted the mercy of God — and there 
I must leave him. 



APPF.XHTX. 171 



HOW FAR IS IT TO CANAAN 1 

"How far is it to Canaan?" asks the 
doubting Christian," for I am sadly afraid 
I shall never get there. My sins are a 
heavy burden to me, and I long to be 
rid of them; if, indeed, there ifc hope 
for such a one as L" Go. on, poor 
doubting Christian, take fresh courage 
and quicken thy steps. Canaan is not 
so far off but thou shalt reach it at last, 
and if thou couldst know how willing 
the Saviour of sinners is to receive thee, 
it would shed a sun-beam on thy deject- 
ed countenance. I have a word of com- 
fort for thee, a cordial for thy heart. 
"I, even I, am he that blotteth out thy 
transgressions for mine own sake, and 
will not remember thy sins." > 

"How far is it to Canaan?" asks the 
triumphant Christian, "for I long to be 
at home. <I know that my Redeemer 



172 APPENDIX. 

liveth,' and I am impatient to behold 
him face to face/' Go forward; tri- 
umph Christian, with the glorious ring 
of assurance upon thy finger! Cast not 
away thy confidence, which hath " great 
recompense of reward." But stay, I 
have a word for thee also, which may 
be useful. Ponder it in thy heart. 
"Let him that thinketh he standeth, 
take heed, lest he fall." 

"H&w far is it to Canaan?" inquires 
the afflicted Christian, "for I have lain 
a long while upon the bed of suffering. 
6 Wearisome nights are appointed me/ 
I am full of tossing to and fro, even un- 
to the dawning of day. <0h that I had 
wings like a dove, for then would I fly 
away, and be at rest/ " 

Be of good cheer, afflicted Christian. 
The heavier the cross, the more pleasant 
will be the crown. If we suffer with 
Christ, we shall also be glorified with 
Christ. I have a word to refresh thy 
fainting soul, and I will now give it 
thee: "The sufferings of this present 
time are not worthy to be compared 



ArfENDlX. 173 

with the glory which shall be revealed 
in us." 

" How far is it to Canaan?" asks the 
persecuted Christian, "for I am an out- 
cast from, my family, a stranger upon 
earth. Like my Lord, I am < despised 
and rejected of men.' ' Many are 
they that rise up against me, and they 
hate me with a cruel hatred/ " 

Hold on, thy way, persecuted Chris- 
tian. It is a safe one, and a blessed 
one; yea, the one thy Redeemer trod 
before thee. Dost thou want a word of 
consolation? I will give it thee; lay it 
up in thy bosom: "Blessed are ye, when 
men shall hate you, and when they shall 
separate you from their company, and 
shall reproach you, and cast out your 
name as evil, for the Son of Man's sake. 
Rejoice, yea, in that day, and leap for 
joy; for, behold, your reward is great 
in heaven." 

"How far is it to Canaan?" sighs the 
bereaved Christian, "for I am a lonely 
and desolate pilgrim. All that were 
dear to me on earth are taken away. 



174 APPENDIX. 

My tears have been my meat night and 
day, and day and night, and my soul 
yearns for the land where there shall be 
no more death, neither sorrow nor sigh- 
ing." " 

Pass on, bereaved Christian; the more 
lonely thy pilgrimage, the sweeter thy 
reception at the end. The Lord whom 
thou servest, hath a special care and 
pity for desolate ones. Take these 
words with thee, and they may refresh 
thy spirit. For, even though they be 
desolate, " The redeemed of the Lord 
shall return, and come with singing un- 
to Zion; and everlasting joy shall be 
upon their heads; they shall obtain glad- 
ness and joy; and sorrow and mourning 
shall flee away." 

"How far is it to Canaan?" asks the 
dying Christian, "for the swellings of 
Jordan are risen about my soul; fearful- * 
ness and trembling are come upon me. 
Alas! I sink in deep waters; I shall not 
see the land that flows with milk and 
honey." 

Look, poor dying Christian, for yon- 



APPENDIX. 175 

der is the bright and morning star; the 
night is far spent and the day is at hand. 
Is thine arm too feeble to be put forth 
for the book of God? Then I must 
even hold it up before your eyes. Look 
on these words, and let neither flame 
nor flood affright thee; be of good cou- 
rage, for they are the words of Him 
who has promised when flesh and heart 
fail, to be the strength of thy heart, and 
thy portion forever: "When thou pass- 
est through the waters I will be with 
thee; and through the rivers, they shall 
not overflow thee; when thou walkest 
through the fire, thou shaltnot be burn- 
ed, neither shall the flames kindle upon 
thee, for 1 am the Lord thy God, the 
Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour. " 

Recorder. 



176 APPENDIX. 



"AND THE DISCIPLES WERE CALLED 
CHRISTIANS FIRST AT ANTIOCH." 

Acts ii. 26. 

Luke, the Evangelist, after having 
given us the history of our blessed Lord, 
proceeds to inform us of the state, con- 
dition, and behaviour of those faithful 
followers he left behind on the earth. 
Luke tells us that the gracious promises 
that Christ had made while he was yet 
with them, began to be fulfilled soon 
after he had ascended to that heaven 
from whence his love had brought him 
down. When the day of Pentecost 
was fully come, the disciples were bap- 
tized with the Holy Spirit and with fire 
sent down from heaven, qualifying them 
to preach the gospel to the world, and 
giving them an earnest of success by 
blessing their first efforts, in the con- 
version of about three thousand souls. 



APPENDIX. 177 

The first believers were of one heart 
and one soul. They continued steadfast in 
the Apostles' doctrine, and had all things 
in common. They might have been 
content to have lived together in Jeru- 
salem, until death had transplanted them 
to the Jerusalem which is above; but 
the Lord had appointed them to be the 
salt of the earth, and the light of the 
world. The rage of their enemies af- 
fected that separation which believers 
in Christ are so loath to yield to. Lit- 
tle did Herod and the wicked Jews 
think what would be the result of the 
persecutions they raised against the 
church of Christ, but persecutors often 
counteract their own designs. So they 
did here, for we are told that those 
whom they scattered abroad went every 
where preaching the word. And the 
word of the Lord ran and was glorified. 
Thus, their bitterest enemies contribu- 
ted not a little to push the blessed work 
forward. 

The faithful followers of the Lamb 
had been called sometimes Nazarenes, 

12 



178 APPENDIX. 

and Galileans, babblers, pestilent fel- 
lows, and the like; but, at length, when 
they grew more numerous, and societies 
were regularly formed, they began to 
bear a more general name. St. Luke 
has informed us that this was the case 
in fact, and has likewise told us w r here 
it was first obtained. The disciples 
were called Christians first at Antioch. 
Now if we consider the state of the city 
of Antioch, before the time, and at the 
time, and since the event of the follow- 
ers of Christ receiving the name of 
Christians, first in that city, we may 
gather some instruction, which ought to 
be our view in all we read. But all we 
read and hear concerning religion will 
do us but little good if we do not look 
to the great Author and Fountain of all 
grace for that aid and assistance without 
which we can do nothing to advantage. 
Antioch, the capital of Syria, was 
built about three hundred years before 
Christ. It was once a most flourishing 
city; the seat and residence of Antio- 
chus, one of the most cruel and invete- 



APPENDIX. 179 

rate enemies of the church and people 
of God. But look at the power and 
the goodness of God! He sets bounds 
to the rage of the adversary, beyond 
which he cannot go. Upon this very 
spot, where this grand enemy had so 
long encamped, he erected one of the 
first general standards of the Gospel. 
And what may we learn from this? 
May we not encourage ourselves from 
the experience of past ages as well as 
from the sure promises of Scripture, 
that, however much the wicked may 
counsel together against the followers of 
Christ, God will bring about what they 
least desire: the welfare and the glory 
of his own church in spite of all their 
malice. He can introduce his worship 
into those places which, at present, are 
destitute, and for this we should con- 
tinually pray. 

The state of Antioch, at the time the 
disciples were first called Christians, 
was dissolute even to a proverb. Wheth- 
er the disciples took upon themselves 
the name of Christians, or whether they 



180 APPENDIX. 

were so called at the first by their ene- 
mies, we cannot doubt but that it was 
a term of the most extreme reproach, 
among that wicked people. No name 
of any sect from that time to the present, 
implied, perhaps, half the contempt 
which an inhabitant of Antioch intend- 
ed when he called a man a Christian. 
It is true the outward state of things 
is much changed, and the external pro- 
fession of Christianity is now no re- 
proach. But let us not suppose that the 
nature of things is changed too. It was 
in those days, a received maxim that 
66 All who will live godly in Christ Je- 
sus, must suffer persecution," and this 
is still a truth, founded upon scripture 
and confirmed by experience. Chris- 
tian reader, if we know nothing of it in 
our own cases, is it not to be feared that 
our tempers and manners are too con- 
formable to this wicked world. Chris- 
tian, here is a test. Let us try ourselves. 
Could we glory in the name under the 
same circumstances as the disciples bore 
it, at Antioch? 



APPENDIX. 181 

But, once more. Antioch, the city 
where the gospel once flourished so ex- 
tensively, and where the Christian 
church received that name by which it 
is still called, is now no more. It has 
been a heap of ruins for more than five 
hundred years. The light of the gospel 
has been long withdrawn. Oh, that our 
yet happy land would take a timely warn- 
ing; our privileges are great; greater, 
all things considered, than any nation 
has possessed since the days of Solomon. 
Our preservation has been wonderful. 
Often have we been in extreme danger, 
but have always found deliverance at 
hand. But let us not be high-minded; 
our sins, as a nation, have been and still 
are very great, and God, we see, is no 
more a respecter of places than of per- 
sons. Antioch and ancient Philadel- 
phia, with many others, have long since 
been destroyed. Are not the judgments 
of God now upon us? In the midst of 
plenty are we not in a famine. Our 
liberties, our properties, our religion are 
in God's hands. May he incline our 



182 APPENDIX. 

hearts to true repentance, lest our bless- 
ings should be taken from us and given 
to a people that will bring forth more 
fruit. 

I suppose the name Christian is from 
God himself, and a Christian is a child 
of God, by faith in Christ. Let us be- 
ware of a Christianity without Christ. 
That would be no better than a house 
without a foundation, a tree without a 
root, a body without a head, a hope 
without a hope, and a delusion which if 
persisted in, will end in destruction, for 
" other foundation can no man lay than 
than that which is laid," Christ Jesus. 
He is the corner-stone, chosen of God, 
and precious. Alas, for those who are 
offended with him in whom God is well 
pleased. how much is comprised in 
the word Christian! But, alas! modern 
Christians, for the most part, are only 
so by profession, and have neither right 
nor pretence to the ancient spirit that 
those eminent servants of Christ who 
lived immediately after him had. As 
he was, so were they, in the world. 



APPENDIX. 



183 



He was their pattern, and they found 
exactly the same opposition. 

"If any man/' says St Paul, "have 
not the spirit of Christ, he is none of 
his." Does not having the spirit of 
Christ mean to have a turn of mind con- 
formable to the mind that was in Christ 
Jesus — and this to be evidenced by a 
life and conversation suitable to his pre- 
cepts and example? No pen can de- 
scribe, no heart conceive, the life of 
the Son of God in the flesh! Now, he 
that saith he abideth in Him ought him- 
self so to walk, even as he walked. I 
will cite one passage of Scripture. — 
Christian, may you and I look at it. 
f< He that saith, I know him, and keep- 
eth not his commandments, is a liar, 
and the truth is not in him." 1 John, 
iii. 4. If we have no more than the 
name of Christian, what shall we do in 
that awful hour when God shall speak 
in ten thousand, thunders to all, who, 
in this life, mock him with an empty 
outside worship. Then it will be said, 
"I know you not," "1 never knew 



184 APPENDIX. 

you." If what I have now named be 
all we have got, we may read our doom 
already. Oh, consider this, and let us 
repent and turn to God. Finally, let 
those who, through grace, worship God 
in spirit and in truth, be careful to hold 
fast their profession. Remember the 
words, brother, " Blessed are ye when 
men revile you, jmd say all manner of 
evil against you falsely for my sake." 
Mat. v. 2. You observe, the evil spo- 
ken of must be false and groundless, 
and secondly, the cause must be for the 
sake of Christ. Many make a mistake 
here. They suppose they suffer for 
Christ's sake, when it- is for their sin- 
gularities, either in sentiment or prac- 
tice, which cannot be maintained from 
the Word of God. Let us labor to 
have the innocence and simplicity of 
the dove blended with true wisdom. 
Let us bring all our remarks and expe- 
riences to the touch-stone of God's holy 
word: then, amidst the various discou- 
ragements which may arise from re- 
maining ignorance in ourselves, or in 



APPENDIX. 185 

others, we may take comfort in reflect- 
ing that we are drawing near to the land 
of light, where there will be no dark- 
ness at all, and we shall be satisfied with 
rivers of pleasure, w T hich are before the 
throne of God, in a world without an 
end. 



186 APPENDIX. 



TO THE REV. JAMES MOORE. 

Belov'd of Heaven! Favor'd of the Lord ! 
Farewell! My heart did utter when the freed 
Spirit, born on angels' wings, mounted 
Upward to its God. Methinks a raptur'd 
Note of joy rang from the harps of angel 
Bands when thy soul found a welcome in 
The sky. I love to think of thee. But 
Not as bending 'neath the weight of years — nor 
Withering 'mid fever's scorching blight — nor 
Languishing in pain. But as I saw 
Thee last, — just as the sun was fading in 
The darkly crimson'd West, and cast his 
Fitful rays upon the bed of death, as 
If to mimic that calm hallowed scene 
When thy fluttering spirit sought to free 
Itself from shackles of mortality, and 
Cast on earth its last bright beam of gladness 
Ere it pass'd away. 

With trembling arm uprais'd, 
Thy finger pointing to the sky, thy tongue 
Faltering in its last attempt to whisper 
" Yes," my soul is safe amidst death's ravages. 
Oh ! 'tis so sweetly solemn thus to stand with 
Watching angels round the Christian's couch, and 
See him die ; and learn the lesson which his 
Closing scene conveys. — 

Yes, disenthral'd from 
Earth, and from thy tottering tenement 
Of clay — I love to think of thee, amid 
The undecaying bliss of heaven — 
Reposing at the Saviour's side, wreath'd with 



APPENDIX. 187 

A never fading crown — array'd in vestments 
Pure and white — the deep fount of thy soul e'er 
Pouring forth melodious strains, and thy 
Lyre chanting melifluously the song 
All Heaven sings. 

A rich reward for all thy 
Toil, thou sacrificing, self-denying one! 
Praised be the Lord! Thou art forever safe! 
Well hast thou in thy Master's service wrought ! 
And now the welcome plaudits given on 
Earth, thou hast been faithful, I will make thee 
Ruler over many things in heaven ! Come 
Thou bless'd of my Father, take thy seat near 
To my Throne! 

Blest vet'ran of the cross, rest, 
Sweetly, safely rest! Thy ashes sleep 
Beneath the weeping willow's shade ; and 
Humble stone the mem'ry keeps ; and often 
Faithful friends with sighing winds sing requiems 
O'er thy quiet grave. 

Long as life lasts in 
Mem'ry's temple, shall thy image be enshrin'd ! 
And when the sweet soft breath of spring embalms 
The air, and 'wakes the flowers, I'll wander to 
Thy tomb, and scatter there these emblems of 
Thy sainted spirit ; blooming, fragrant, fresh, 
And pure, high in the bowers of heaven. 
T will remember thee as in the sacred 
Desk thou stoodst ; thy tearful eyes and thrilling strain 
Which kindly cheer'd the Christian's heart, and led 
The iniquitous wanderer back to God. 
F 11 think how oft, in childhood's blithesome hour, 
When seated on thy knee, thou bade my youthful 
Heart forget not its Creator, and unravel'd 
To my list'ning ear the tale of Bethlehem's 
Babe — the manger and the cross — and of 
The dark sepulchral vault, how it could 
Not confine him there, but was unseal'd 
By angels, that the Holy One might 



188 APPENDIX. 

Plume his radiant wings and upward soar, 
To take his wonted seat high on his Throne 
Of glory — there to complete the errand 
Of his love. 

Dear venerated one, I 
See thee now as then I saw ; thy mild eyes 
Beaming with benignant love. Yes, still I'll 
Think of thee, and love thee still. Tho' I may 
Hear thy welcome footstep in my home no 
More, to fill my heart with gladness, nor thy 
Voice of fervent prayer. Ah! it is hush'd 
Jn death. And though thou art in heav'n, 
Methinks thou bidst me still God's speed ; as 
I kneel at even-tide for prayers, close 
By the spot from whence thy spirit fled, I 
Seem to hear thy voice again, in tones more 
Silvery far and sweet, bidding me live alone 
To God, and close my eyes on earth. This 
Conscious feeling of thy presence makes 
Me long to clasp thy beckoning hand, 
And rise with thee to share the bliss above. 

Dear father, guide, adieu! I'll strive to live 
As thou dids't live, with conscience pure, that 
With thee, I may share the raptures of 
Ethereal spirits, and the ceaseless 
Smile of God, when life's tumultuous scenes 
Are o'er. A. R. R. 

January 12, 1843. 



^PPEXDI-X. 189 



THE STREAM OF DEATH. 



There is a stream, whose narrow tide 
The known and unknown worlds divide, 

Where all must go ; 
Its waveless waters dark and deep, 
Midst sullen silence downward 3weep, 

With moanless flow. 

I saw where, at the dreary flood, 
A smiling infant prattling stood, 

Whose hour was come ; 
Untaught of ill, it neared the tide, 
Sunk, as to cradle rest, and died 

Like going home. 

Followed with languid eye anon, 

A youth diseased, and pale, and wan ; 

And there alone 
He gazed upon the leaden stream 
And feared to plunge — I heard a scream, 

And he was gone. 

And then a form in manhood strength 
Came bustling on, till there at length 

He saw life's bound ; 
He shrunk, and raised the bitter prayer 
Too late — his shriek of wild despair 

The waters drowned. 



190 APPENDIX. 

Next stood upon that surgeless shore, 
A being bowed with many a score 

Of toilsome years ; 
Earth bound and sad, he left the bank, 
Back turned his dimning eye, and sank, 

Ah ! full of fears. 

How bitter must thy waters be, ♦ 

Oh, death ! How hard a thing, ah me ! 
It is to die ! 

I mused — when to that stream again 
Another child of mortal man, 

With smiles drew nigh. — 

" 'Tis the last pang," he calmly said, 

II To me, oh death ! thou hast no dread ; 

Saviour I come! 
Spread but thine arms on yonder shore — 
I see ! — ye waters, bear me o'er ! 

There is my home." 

New York Paper. 



C ONTENTS 



Chapter I. — His birth, etc. The decease of his 
pious mother, etc The powerful influence of her 
religious example and precepts. His advice to pa- 
rents, etc. - - - - 7 

Chapter II. — The bad effects of Bunyan's Pilgrim's 
Progress on his mind. The effects of a Sermon 
preached by a Friend. His apprenticeship to a 
Blacksmith. His resolution against profane swear- 
ing. How he obtained a Bible, etc. - - 16 

Chapter III. — His apprenticeship to the shoemaking 
business. Union with the Baptist Church, conver- 
sion, etc. . The expiration of his apprenticeship. 
His apostacy occasioned by a Universalist, etc. 
His removal to Kensington. His reclamation from 
Universalism, and union with the Rev. Mr. Ken- 
nard's Church. - - - - 24 

Chapter IV.— His travels to Newark, New York, 
Boston, Salem, and return. His exercise to the 
call and work of the Ministry. Death of Mr. Ken- 
nard. His removal to Wilmingon, Del. His mar- 
riage and return to Kensington, etc. - - 53 

Chapter V. — Backsliding and causes, etc. Re- 
claimed and union with the Harmony M. E. Church. 
The converted Infidel, his Death, etc. Removal to 
Moorestown, N. Jersey, and union with the M. E. 
Church, his labors in that neighborhood. Discovers 
his mistake on the subject of sanotification. - 64 



192 CONTENTS. 

Chapter VI.— His removal to the Cross Roads, 
near Medford, New Jersey. Severe trials ; death 
of a sister-in-law, etc. A tour with the Rev. W. 
Rogers, up Jersey. A change of views on the sub- 
ject of sanctification, etc. - - - 78 

Chapter VII.— His pursuit after and enjoyment of 
the blessing of Sanctification, etc. Licensed to 
preach at the Quarterly Meeting Conference in 
Medford, etc. The blessings of Justification and 
Sanctification contrasted in his own case. - $1 

APPENDIX. 

The Doctrine of Sanctification Illustrated, - - 103 

A Sermon on Sanctification, • 120 

The New Birth, - - - - 134 

Persevere and you will succeed, - 144 

The Church of Christ. - - - - 154 

Behold How She Loved Him, - - - 159 

The Death of the Righteous and Wicked Contrasted, 165 
How far is it to Canaan ? ... 171 

"And the Disciples were called Christians first at 

Antioch," - - - - - 176 

To the Rev. Jas. Moore, - - - - 186 

The Stream of Death, - - - - 189 



